Fallout: Crossing Destinies
by Metal Harbinger
Summary: A conflict brews in the former Midwestern United States between two warring factions with vastly different ideologies and various people will find themselves caught in the middle. This is their story.
1. Prologue: War Never Changes

Fallout: Crossing Destinies

by Metal Harbinger

**Author's Note: **Once again I am back and I have decided to reboot what was once called "The Regulator."

I had ideas for "The Regulator," but once again I fell victim to creative burnout and found myself unhappy with the way things were turning out and have once again decided to rewrite this fic.

This isn't the first time I've done this, hell I rewrote my first chapter of this story 3 times before I ever even posted "The Regulator!"

Yes, I'm quite the stubborn bastard when it comes to wanting to do something and I've been wanting to do a "Fallout" fic for quite some time so here is my next attempt and hopefully I'll get a little farther than I did the last time around.

As it was with my last attempt, this story is going to be set in an entirely new locale filled with original characters, factions and even a few new types of mutants here and there.

Now that I've gotten that mumbo jumbo out of the way it's time to get crackin'!

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Prologue: War Never Changes

_War. War never changes._

_ When atomic fire consumed the landscape humanity was sent retreating to the safety of the great underground vaults. Those who survived took the knowledge of the old world with them, in turn passing it down to the generations that followed._

_ When the vaults opened their inhabitants entered a hostile new world that would have been foreign to their ancestors, a necropolis covered in ruins, an open grave site to the society of yesteryear._

_ Yet even in the darkest of days, humankind is a stubborn creature, determined to prevail no matter what obstacles are placed before them. They refused to let the ways of their old world die while simultaneously hoping they would not repeat the same mistakes of those before them._

_ As the world enters its 24__th__ century, a fledgling nation is born from the wastes; the descendant of an old world nation._

_ This nation is the New Midwest Commonwealth._

_ Inspired by tales of the great leaders of the past, the NMC seeks to spread the old world values of democracy, liberty and rule of law in an attempt to restore order to a hostile land._

_ As it has been with all burgeoning civilizations throughout recorded history, the young nation endures its struggles in the form of raiders, super mutants and other horrors sired from the fallout of a long ago war, yet they soldier forth, determined to bring hope to those living in the death grip of fear._

_ They are not the only faction seeking to reshape the land in their image._

_ Coming from the land once known as Chicago another society arises, driven by a divine mission dictated to them by their living prophet: The Order of the New Dawn._

_ An autocratic theocracy led by the high priest known only as Aquinas, it is their ultimate goal to unite the world under the sacred words of their 'great provider,' converting savage wastelanders to their faith while punishing those who refuse._

_ Through it all there are those who watch from the shadows. Who they are and what their motives are no one knows._

_ As it is with any major conflict there are those caught in the middle, unwitting pawns in a game much larger than they can ever anticipate. It is their moves that tip the crucial balance of power in favor of the eventual winner._

_ Because war, war never changes._

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**Author's Note: **So what do you think? Let me know. I accept constructive criticism, but no flames. Violation of this policy results in either crucifixion or the said offender becoming Deathclaw chowder! Take your pick!

_Hopefully I can keep trucking along with this reboot and hope to hear what you have to say! Until next time this is Metal Harbinger saying SPREAD THE SICKNESS, ONE MIND AT A TIME! \m/_


	2. Respite at the Rodeo

**Author's Note: **Once again here is the first chapter, albeit with some major changes. I was a little more careful at how I went through things this time around and am much happier with the result.

Hope you all enjoy! \m/

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Chapter 1: Respite at the Rodeo

The crack of a hunting rifle resounded and in less than a split second the feral ghoul hit the dirt with a fresh hole drilled through its skull.

"Ha! Got me another one!" the triumphant marksman whooped, "Looks like you're buying drinks tonight! How's about that? Huh? Huh?!" he asked elbowing the younger man perched next to him. "C'mon Cody! I know defeat is a bitter pill to swallow, but you don't have to let it get your tongue too!" he laughed stridently.

The young man next to him was twenty-one years of age and stood slightly less than six feet tall with a full head of strawberry blond hair in desperate need of a trim and an X-shaped scar on his right cheek marring an otherwise youthful appearance. In his hands he held a customized varmint rifle with the name _'Annie'_ scratched into the side.

"Always gotta make a big game out of everything, don't cha' Ralphie?" Cody Shivers replied with a roll of his hazel eyes.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. You always say that whenever I'm kicking your ass!" Ralphie Serrano laughed heartily, "Nine to six, remember? I'm counting that mole rat too. You know shufflers aren't the only things running around these parts. Shit, I might get lucky and kill me another yao guai in one shot!"

Cody only responded with an extended middle finger.

"Only after it's nearly devoured you. You seem to forget that's how it went the last time," spoke a dark-skinned man around their age equipped with his own gas-operated, semi-automatic battle rifle, "Then again all that drinking does tend to make you forget things at times."

Ralphie only snorted at the comment before placing the whiskey bottle back to his lips and downing the rest of the amber-colored liquid in one gulp before casually tossing the now emptied glass container aside.

Cody lay in a prone position peering through his scope for any more ghouls or other threats that would stumble into his cross hairs. As it always was, the trio had turned a round of guard duty into a game just to pass the time until their shift was up.

The barren landscape surrounding the hamlet was covered in dead grass and dotted by dead trees, jagged rock formations, the occasional charred shell of a house and a multitude of marring craters, the remnants of a long ago war. At the side of the broken road stood a billboard that would have welcomed weary pre-War travelers to the Rodeo Plaza, where they could have enjoyed a warm meal, a cool dip in the pool and a good night's rest.

Even after the bombs fell Rodeo Plaza provided all those amenities, a walled-in haven for those who had not succumbed to the insanity of the harsh wastes around them.

It had proven a godsend for the young marksmen and the rest of their group after spending three days straight on the road in their search for any goods to sell, having survived skirmishes with more than one raider gang and a family of yao guai after happening across a cave the beasts had claimed as their own.

In addition to the motel which served as the small community's centerpiece, there had been a strip mall housing a medical doctor, merchant, co-op, and a barber that had given the band of prospectors more needed wares and even a diner where they were able to enjoy some fresh meals and get themselves acquainted with the locals.

In turn, they agreed to help with the security detail. Apart from the occasional stray ghoul or mole rat and an even rarer yao guai sighting, Rodeo Plaza was a pretty peaceful settlement.

Aside from the N.M.C.'s armed forces there was very little in the way of law enforcement in the wastes of the former Midwestern United States of America. Due to the nation still being in its relative infancy, they had too little in the way of manpower to provide protection for the entire stretch of their territory and thus were forced to rely upon assistance from various cells of Regulators scattered about, which themselves were often underfunded, undermanned, under equipped and poorly organized. Given their dire circumstances many towns were more than happy to receive help from wherever they could, providing whatever means of compensation available if they were unable to dish out the caps for their visitor's good deed be it a warm meal, a change of clothes, a place to sleep, or even in extreme cases, sexual favors.

In the case of Cody and Ralphie, a few cold drinks would be an ideal reward, but for now they would have to wait.

Still, they could have some fun while waiting.

"See something out-" Walt started, only to be shushed by his friend.

A feral ghoul shambled into view from behind the splintered remnants of a Highwayman pulled over at the side of the broken route. Its head was darting back and forth and even from this distance they could hear the throaty snarling the irradiated beasts were known for, no doubt searching for the source of the gunshot that had claimed one of its brethren just a minute earlier.

"Got you in my sights," Cody whispered to himself steadying his aim on the emaciated figure's chest for a surefire kill. He had one bullet left in his extended magazine and wanted to make it count before he would be forced to reload. _"I nearly went broke last time Ralphie won and I'm not letting that happen today," _he thought.

His finger itched as he took a deep breath and with practiced precision he squeezed the trigger, a muted puff as the 5.56 mm round escaped the barrel.

In less than a split second a crimson splotch appeared on the mutant's tattered white t-shirt and it collapsed to the pavement not far from Ralphie's latest kill.

"Score one more for me. Don't think I'm not going down without a fight," Cody smirked before ejecting his spent clip and reaching for a new one.

"Next one is mine. You can count on that!" Ralphie replied.

"And surely there will be more of those...things if you two don't keep it down," a bespectacled man grumbled from behind the Big Book of Science his nose was buried in at the moment.

"Always gotta be a fucking pussy, don't cha' Ein?" Ralphie sardonically retorted while tugging at the forest green head wrap that kept his shaggy black hair out of his eyes.

The man called Ein lowered the textbook and narrowed his blue eyes at the marksman, "No, I just think of myself as being more cautious and civilized as opposed to a barbarian like yourself who believes he has to shoot everything that moves as a means of entertainment. It was that kind of mindset that led our planet into the current state which it's in mind you," he replied, condescending as always in his tone.

"Hey, you just remember it was us 'barbarians' who pulled your sorry ass out of that mirelurk nest back in Peka," Walt cut in while staring down the sights of his own rifle, "I swear sometimes we're all nothing more than glorified babysitters with your sorry ass. Should've left you back there, give the king a new chew toy."

Ein pointed a finger at his companion and opened his mouth to reply, but found himself at a loss for words.

"Wish I had a camera on me right now, that was priceless," Cody chimed in, "Looks like you oughta' stick to keeping your nose buried in all those fancy pre-War books of yours," the young prospector spoke before scratching at the stubble forming on his chin.

"Well pardon me for not engaging in some simple-minded bloodsport as a means of amusement," the intellectual shot back, "That or seeing there are more things to life other than drinking myself into cirrhosis or popping Mentats like they are candy as that Skeeter fellow does as a means to make up for an apparent lack of mental acumen."

Ein then pushed himself back to his feet and scooped up his book along with his AEP7 laser pistol and box of Sugar Bombs before making his way towards the ladder. On the way he stopped and turned to face Ralphie one last time.

"If I do remember correctly, it was your impulsive decision to gun down a feral that resulted in you wasting a precious bullet for no reason other than to prove your 'machismo' to that farmer's daughter back in Carbon. Not only that, you drew an entire horde of those...things to our doorstep and nearly got us thrown on right on the spot. You're just lucky Mr. Sanderson is as much of a persuasive speaker as he is, or else we would've found ourselves sleeping in the dirt again, or worse," Ein spoke before descending the ladder.

"Yeah, and fuck you too asshole," Ralphie spat before returning his attention to his friends, "Pompous dick. Fucking thinks he's better than everybody because he has his nose buried in a fucking book all day long."

"Yeah, can't think of anything else he's good for," Walt added as the clanking of metal let the trio know someone else was coming to join them.

"Afternoon fellas," a wiry man wearing biker goggles and a pre-War baseball cap called out as he pulled himself onto the rooftop, a military-grade sniper rifle strapped to his back.

"Hey Albatross, what's the good word?" Cody asked as the man unslung his rifle.

"Your shift is up, that's what," the middle-aged man replied, "It's high noon, son. You might wanna get yourself over to Vannah's pretty fast. You know how quick she goes through her Deathclaw Burgers," he said rubbing his tummy in emphasis.

"Right, thanks," Cody said slinging his customized varmint rifle over his shoulder and turning to the others, "Shall we?"

"Let's," Walt and Ralphie spoke in unison and the trio descended the ladder with Cody taking the lead.

As soon as his boots were touching the ground a thick plume of smoke was making its way into the young man's nostrils and he suppressed the urge to gag, but when he turned around to see who it was he knew it would be a wise decision to keep his comments to himself.

Seated at an old card table was a man who had to be roughly in his late thirties or early forties with chestnut-colored hair falling past his ears so greasy the sunlight glinted off of it, a telltale sign he hadn't bathed bathed in days, along with a goatee that was rapidly becoming a full beard. A patch covered his left eye, a jagged vertical scar extending the length of his face. His remaining eye was an almost black shade of brown, emitting a cold, unforgiving stare to anyone who dared look his way. He was clad in a hefty set of metal armor with enough weapons to make him look like a walking gun store.

A Chinese-manufactured Type 93 assault rifle was laid out before him along with a 12.7mm pistol, a .45 automatic equipped with a heavy duty slide, silencer and enhanced iron sights, a blood-encrusted Ripper, line of fragmentation grenades and in his hands a scoped .44 magnum. In addition to his firearms, a pneumatic power fist served as a prosthetic in place of his missing right hand, one he knew how to use all too well.

A cigarette dangled between his lips and another thick plume of smoke found its way towards the prospector. Telling him to put it out would have amounted to suicide.

'Delton' they called him, an assumed surname. Whoever he was he barely ever spoke, but he damn sure knew his way around combat and preferred to left his fists do the talking, as was the case back in Poplar Bluff when a bold restaurateur told him the exact same thing, only to eat a power fist for his troubles, hitting the man so hard he went flying through the nearest wall. It was unknown whether the unfortunate man had lived or died, too many bullets started flying and the group found themselves forced to flee.

Why Ted allowed this mystery man to continue tagging along was an endless source of speculation for the others, many theories regarding his past drummed up over numerous games of Caravan, ranging from the gruesome to the downright farcical.

Whoever he really was, it was sure he had seen much violence in his life and he bore the scars to prove it. Through all the bloodshed he had likely incurred his fair share of trauma which may have very well been a major contribution to his taciturn nature, leaving them feeling like they were traveling with a ticking time bomb waiting to go off at any given second. They were left constantly on edge, but nevertheless it was Ted's call to keep him on board in their ragtag group of prospectors. His word alone was the law.

Cody waited for his friends to join him and they made their way further into the small community, a stretch of land consisting of the aforementioned motel and strip mall in addition to a former Poseidon Energy gas station, an old auto repair garage, an area set aside for keeping Brahmin, a few small makeshift houses and several large tents that served either as businesses or places where passersby could spend the night. All the structures didn't leave much room for movement, but the area was still rife with activity.

Standing near a vegetable vendor was a young freckle-faced boy (Mickey they had learned his name was) acting as the town crier, directing visitors to all the shops in a carefully rehearsed pitch while a girl around his age had set up her own lemonade stand nearby and was in the middle of pouring a glass for a balding older man in a bright red handyman's jumpsuit with a toolbox in hand, whom they recognized as Seth, the maintenance supervisor and 'lieutenant mayor.'

More children were present, kicking a soccer ball around while an Australian cattle dog chased after them barking happily the entire time, the canine nearly knocking over a younger man in a soiled blue jumper whom they knew as Stan, the mechanic who had been gracious enough to repair any damaged weapons and armor the group carried.

Situated on a nearby corner was a cowboy hat-wearing busker with an exaggerated walrus mustache who had an acoustic guitar in hand and was singing for some passing locals. Bighorn Bob was his name and when he wasn't singing he was busy showing off his marksmanship, compliments of the massive magnum revolver strapped to his side. A few generous listeners dropped caps into the open coffee can at his feet before moving along.

The front gates were opened and a scavenger entered with his pack Brahmin and Mister Gutsy robot, both of them met by the same brunette woman in the pre-War bomber jacket and black cowboy hat with a caravan shotgun strapped to her back. It was the town sheriff Ruby Stone, no doubt stopping to explain to him the same rules as she did with every other visitor, letting them know they liked their peace of mind here in Rodeo Plaza and that no drama would be tolerated at all.

The trio was about to continue forth until a voice called out, "Hey Cody!"

They turned to find a man in a long sleeveless leather coat walking towards them, both a lever-action rifle and a baseball bat strapped to his back. He wore a bright red baseball cap with a large 'C' stitched on the front and stitched onto the front of his jacket was a patch of a baseball with two bats crossed behind it, a popular pre-War pastime he had grown quite fond of over the years.

"Oh, hey Dicky! How are you?" Cody called back as the man approached.

"I was just heading over to Vannah's. You wanna come with?" he asked taking a spot alongside the group.

"You must be a damn mind reader. We were doing the exact same thing," Walt replied.

"Then it's settled. Vannah's it is," Cody said leading the way.

It wasn't much longer before they were approaching Vannah's Diner, more accurately a large tent with a placard out front that had the establishment's name spray painted in bold red letters. The front flap was open and they made their way inside, nearly bowled over by the sweet aroma of fine home cooking.

The diner's interior was filled with wooden picnic tables and extra folding tables on hand to accommodate the surplus of guests lured in by Vannah's famed 'Deathclaw Burgers.' At the front was the counter, which more accurately was a few pieces of plywood set atop a line of empty wooden barrels where a few patrons sat on scavenged bar stools. In spite of its sparse furnishings the diner was easily the most popular locale in the fortified community and the lone waitress Trixie darted back and forth between customers like she was stuck in a pre-War pinball machine.

"Well howdy folks, you're just in time," called the matronly tone of Vannah Coleman, a middle-aged woman in a blue and white waitress uniform with her platinum blonde hair worn in a bun, "Gunther's slapping some fresh burgers on the grill as we speak," she said motioning towards the big man at the grill, who offered a curt wave.

"Well then what's keeping us?" Cody said again leading the way as they looked around for an empty table to sit at.

The effort was easier said than done as the diner was in the middle of its lunchtime rush with several other familiar faces spotted throughout the humble establishment, including Gus Morgan, the town's mayor and owner of the Rodeo Plaza Motel, the eccentric town barber Flo, Jonas the merchant, Dora the co-op owner and Doc Graham's flaxen-haired daughter Lucy. Cody was left wondering if he and his crew would be forced to sit outside until another voice called out.

"Hey Cody, over here!"

The prospector looked over to see four individuals seated at a table in the back corner: an amber-haired man wearing a brown jacket containing many pockets, a short Hispanic man clad in leather armor similar to his own with a bulging duffel bag resting at his feet, an Asian man in the middle of fiddling around with a Pip-Boy 3000 strapped to his left wrist and lastly a woman clad in a duster commonly worn by Regulators, her fiery feathered hair calling out to the group like a beacon. Fortunately for them, the table was long enough to accommodate four extra guests.

"Hey Andy, what's up?" Cody called back as he and his group took their spots with the others.

"Well it's obvious isn't it?" Andy said motioning towards the half-eaten burger in front of him, "They weren't kidding around about these babies. They're amazing! I never knew those ugly freaks could be so delicious! I'm definitely asking for seconds!"

Cody was about to reply until Trixie took note of his presence and rushed over to meet him, stopping to wipe the fresh sheen of sweat from her forehead before reaching for her notepad.

"And what can I get you fine folks today?" she exhaled before forcing a smile onto her youthful features.

"You can just get me a Deathclaw Burger and a Nuka-Cola please," Cody said placing his order.

"Coming right up!" Trixie chimed before darting about to take Ralphie, Walt and Dicky's orders.

Cody leaned over to resume his conversation with Andy, "So what's next on our itinerary?"

"Some place called 'Lakeview,'" he replied before taking another bite of his burger and took some time to chew before speaking again, "According to Ghee's fancy little 'watch thing' it's a little over sixteen kilometers away from here," he said pointing with his thumb to the Asian man seated at the opposite end of the table, who was still in the middle of fiddling with his Pip-Boy.

"You in the mood for dancing or something?" asked the group's sole woman Stanzi as a string of electronic beeps came from the device.

"I'm trying to see if there's anybody near Lakeview we can contact, but all I'm getting is this," Ghee said raising the Pip-Boy so everybody could hear the beeping, "If you ask me, it sounds like Morse Code."

"Like any of us know what that means," spoke Louie Ramos before cutting into his Brahmin steak, "For all we know they're probably miles away. Not like we'd have time to go saving their hinds."

"Yeah," the navigator sighed switching his device off.

"What's up with this Lakeview place anyway?" Walt asked getting in on the conversation.

"Ted got a tip from some scavenger a while back. Supposedly there's some old school building there that has stuff concealed from before the War down in the basement. It could be anything. Weapons, chems, pre-War tech...stuff that could draw in a lot of caps for us. Last I checked we were pretty low," Andy answered.

To emphasize his point he raised the small pouch where he kept his own stash of bottle caps and shook it for all to see, barely any jingling heard from within.

"Well do we even wanna be anywhere near a lake?" Dicky inquired, "Seems like everywhere we go around these parts it's nothing but irradiated shitholes."

"Well even if turns out to be near another one of those 'irradiated shitholes,' it's still some form of civilization, or at least was at one point. If we're lucky there's a merchant on hand we can trade the stuff with and get us some extra caps, or there are houses we can go through and find stuff. Either way, there's gotta be something we can get out of this," Andy continued, inviting a snort from Louie.

"Not unless you're looking to become a shuffler yourself," the group's quartermaster replied, "Last time I checked we were low on RadAway and Doc Graham didn't have any left. He says it could be a week before he gets his next shipment, provided some raiders don't get to it first."

"There's gotta be another way, always has to be," Ralphie said before turning his attention to Andy, "Maybe we'll get lucky and happen across an abandoned Nuka-Cola truck with a shit ton of unconsumed carbonated goodness waiting for you in the back," he quipped reaching over and playfully clapping his friend on the shoulder.

"Stop it. You're gonna make me thirsty just thinking about that," the amber-haired fellow jokingly shot back.

"Can it be a Sunset Sarsaparilla truck instead?" Louie chipped in, raising his half-consumed bottle of the aforementioned beverage.

"Ugh, that stuff tastes like Brahmin piss!" Andy replied scrunching his face for comical effect and eliciting a few laughs in the process.

"Yeah, you _would_ drink that stuff sicko!" Louie replied scratching at the goatee forming on his chin.

The exchange brought another round of laughter from the prospectors, always a welcome relief in the harsh wastes. For Cody Shivers it was especially relieving after everything endured in his short life. It reminded him he was still human and furthermore, that he still had people in his life.

Even through the harsh terrain, the food shortages, the radiation, the raiders and all the other abominations he still had his loyal band of prospectors. Through thick and thin they stuck by one another, even if Delton was an antisocial prick, Ein was a pretentious ass and Skeeter was a chem addict, still they were like family in a time when few existed and he had to rely upon the people he could trust most to make it through the day.

"So, still got any of those Grognak comics on you?" Stanzi suddenly asked from out of the blue.

The only woman traveling in the ragtag band, Stanzi Sampson had been a Regulator at one point, until she developed a pretty nasty chem habit that had led to her blackballing from law enforcement, yet she still wore her duster with pride, a reminder of happier times.

Cody and Ted discovered her lying on the side of a road with nothing but the clothing on her back and an empty cowboy repeater at her side. She had purposely overdosed on a heavy dosage of Psycho in an effort to end her own life, left with nothing else to live for. Fortunately Andy had been on hand to treat her and saved her from Death's Door.

Seeing much of his deceased daughter in her, Ted agreed to take her in with the hopes of giving her a new purpose in life. He had to set some serious ground rules for her, letting her know that she must remain clean and sober if she wished to travel with his group. So far she had stuck true to her promise and it was within due time she and Cody were able to discover their mutual love of pre-War comics, Cody's being Grognak the Barbarian and hers being the AntAgonizer.

"Yeah, I actually managed to scrounge up three of them at that one house back in Arden Springs. Funny thing is they were locked in a safe. Damn, that guy sure loved his comics. I went through for bobby pins trying to crack that safe. Then again, they might as well be read by someone instead of being locked away like that forever and ever," Cody chuckled, knowing the original owner was likely long gone.

"Found me an AntAgonizer premiere issue still in mint condition. Finders keepers, losers weepers," she shot back, to which Cody stuck his tongue out at her.

"If you ask me, you haven't lived until you've found an entire stash of scotch. Oh man, that was a party and a half right there," Louie chipped in.

"Well I found some woman's sleepwear under lock and key once like the guy was trying to protect Fort Knox. It was in the home of some guy who was supposed to have been a big war hero before the bombs fell," Andy laughed from the opposite end, "I guess even the manliest of men have their secrets."

"Only a matter of time before we find out what yours are," Ralphie said lightly punching him in the arm.

"Keep dreaming, dear boy," Andy chuckled, "I've got a better chance at killing a Deathclaw in one shot than you do of ever finding that out."

"Ha! Whatever you say 'Mr. I-Like-to-Talk-Big-but-Couldn't-Hit-the-Broad-Side-of-a-Brahmin-Without-Wasting-an-Entire-Fucking-Clip!'" Ralphie chortled.

"Keep your bullshitting up and you'll be the one needing to worry about keeping your head attached," Andy replied forming an imaginary pistol with his thumb and index finger and pretending to fire.

"Heh, you sure you'll even be able to hit that?" Ralphie came back.

"Whoa, easy there, Chief. You two can fantasize about killing each other later," Louie pointed over his shoulder as the waitress Trixie approached with a large tray in hand, "I doubt you'll wanna get brain matter in your burger."

Cody's mouth suddenly watered as the large burger was placed before him, topped off with a side of French Fries and a small cup full of cole slaw, in addition to his requested Nuka-Cola.

It had been three days since his last full meal. Once again Ralphie had been thinking with his dick and had wasted nearly all their caps on two very expensive hookers back in Mirelurk Bay, nearly bankrupting the entire group. In the end they were barely able to afford enough Pork n' Beans to go around for the entire group. It had been a miracle the young marksman survived the day given the number of people lining up to kill him, again Ted somehow managing to pull the group together and avert a civil war.

His stomach grumbling he picked up the burger and bit into it, feeling like he was in Heaven.

Indeed he had heard much about Deathclaws from his travels, but had so far been fortunate enough to avoid any encounters with the legendary creatures. With their size, strength and killer instinct they were a nightmare for even the bravest traveler.

Now here was one before him, ground into hamburger meat and it was delicious.

"Guess I'll never look at a Deathclaw the same way again," he remarked aloud before taking a bite.

"Only when it's looking to slice you in half," Dicky added shoving a piece of Brahmin steak into his mouth.

"Man, when I finally hit the next big score I'm gonna buy you all a round of drinks! Fuck that, I'll buy the whole goddamn bar!" Ralphie boomed, loud enough to invite stares from the other patrons.

"Heh, yeah sure you are," Ghee spoke from the opposite end.

Before Ralphie could shoot back he felt a strong presence behind him.

"Alright, that'll be enough out of you two," a gruff voice spoke from behind.

They turned to find an older man standing behind them, looking like something out of a Wild Western holotape with his rattan cowboy hat and sunglasses. In addition he wore a leather vest with a red neckerchief, blue tartan shirt, tan cargo pants and cowboy boots. He had a graying handlebar mustache that mostly covered a scar framing the right corner of his mouth, compliments of an encounter with a Bushdweller years back.

"Figured I'd find y'all here," Ted Sanderson said pulling up a chair to the front of the table, "Looks like I came just in time. Don't wanna go getting ourselves kicked out again now, do we?" he asked glaring daggers at Ralphie, who swallowed heavily at the man's steely gray eyes.

His answer was met with silence. With a shrug he pulled out his canteen and began pouring a bottle of purified water inside.

"We'll need to be up at seven bells tomorrow gentlemen – and lady," he started, making sure to include Stanzi, "I'm gonna need all of ya' up bright and early. No lip, no problem. Make sure you got all your shit together. Do I make myself clear?"

He was met with a few nods and a few murmured acknowledgments, able to draw the needed response as always.

"Very well," he said before removing his cowboy hat to scratch his balding head underneath, "They don't have any Sleipnirs left, but I did manage to get us a new pack Brahmin. Definitely make things easier for us after what those bastards did to Ol' Gertie," he added, referencing how their old pack Brahmin had been reduced to ashes following a well-timed laser blast from a member of the 96ers raider gang.

"You gonna have Delton babysitting it again? What an oh so wonderful job he did the last time around," Walt asked, his last sentence dripping with sarcasm.

"You wanna be partnered up with him for the next hunting trip?" Ted asked, cocking an eyebrow towards the younger man, also halted by his powerful words. "Yeah, I thought so."

Ted Sanderson was a rugged fellow who had spent his entire life in the wastes and had the skills to back it up, in addition to the multitude of battle scars and lack of tolerance for bullshit of any kind.

Having been a Brahmin rancher, caravan bodyguard, courier, butcher, professional hunter and Regulator, he had seen much in his sixty plus years and killed his fair share of men. He was as rough around the edges as one could come, but he remained a fair man who had a way of commanding respect from those who traveled under him and a way with words that had served the entire group as a whole well, his aura so powerful oftentimes he only needed a wordless stare to silence any dissension within the ranks.

He also possessed a deep-seated moral fiber that would not allow him to kill anyone without provocation, especially the few innocent souls milling about in their hostile new world.

It was the same deep moral fiber that had him riding in guns blazing to save an 8-year old Cody Shivers from the raiders who had brutally murdered his parents right before his very eyes, a reaper showing no mercy upon the wicked.

It had been twelve long years since that brutal day and Cody stuck by his side ever since. Granted he had given the old man his fair share of headaches like any typical son would, but he owed the man his life and would faithfully serve him to the end. It was under his careful tutelage he learned everything there was about survival in the wastelands and he strove to one day become the same kind of man he looked up to.

The old man reached into his pocket and produced a folded up piece of paper, "By the way Cody, I'm supposed to give this to you," he said before leaning closer, "It's from Lucy Graham," he whispered.

"Really? Well thanks," Cody said accepting the note and opening it to read it quietly to himself:

_Cody,_

_ You seem like a great guy who is really good at reaching through to people._

_ I have a friend who has a serious problem and I need your help in dealing with it._

_ Meet me behind Stan's garage at 1 pm._

_ Lucy_

Cody folded the note up and stuffed it into his pocket. He would spend the next few minutes eating his meal in relative silence as his colleagues conversed around him, wondering the entire time what the young woman could need his help with.

As soon as his meal was finished he rose to his feet and stretched his arms. "I'll talk to you guys later. Right now I'm just gonna go and see what else is going on around here."

"Right, see you back at the motel," Andy replied with a wave.

Cody stepped back into the midday sun using his hand as a visor to protect his eyes from its rays, his gaze shifting towards an old brick building with a battered Corvega and a few motorcycles in various states of disassembly parked out front, the sign overhead identifying it as Stan's Garage.

Looking around to make sure he wasn't being followed, the young prospector rounded the building to find Lucy Graham waiting for him, clad in a flower-patterned spring dress with her auburn hair falling just past her shoulders. When he saw the look of concern etched into her features he looked over his shoulder one last time before cautiously approaching her.

"I'm glad you came," she spoke with a brief smile forming.

"What's wrong?" Cody asked reclining against the building.

Now it was Lucy's turn to look around before leaning closer to Cody, "It's Eli."

The person in question was Eli Coleman, the only child of restaurateur Vannah Coleman, her childhood friend whom Cody had briefly met shortly after the group's arrival, but hadn't seen since.

"What about him?"

Lucy's lower lip began to quiver and she took some time to compose herself before finally speaking, "I think he's been dealing chems."

The young woman crossed her arms and looked down to the gravel beneath them, "He's been disappearing for longer periods of time then expected, always coming back with a lot of caps. When I ask where he got them, he just blows me off and walks away. He's never done that to me before," she said looking up, the fear evident in her brown eyes.

Again she inched closer to Cody and her voice fell to a whisper, "I was over to his house looking for him last night. When I got there nobody was home, but the back door was open, right near his room," she again paused before breathing deeply, "I didn't want to do it, but I was worried."

"What happened?" Cody asked.

Several moments of tense silence passed before Lucy forced herself to speak, "He has his safe beneath his desk, but he forgot to close it...I found a stash of chems. Mentats, Psycho, Hydra, Jet, Buffout, Rocket...you name it...it was there. Not only that, I found an entire list of people he named as buyers and a bunch of caps he would have never gotten otherwise."

Lucy stopped and held herself closely, visibly trembling within the prospector's presence and when her gaze met his again, tears were creeping from the corners of her eyes.

"I'm scared..." she murmured.

Cody placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, "Do you suspect anyone else knows?"

"No," she muttered shaking her head and again looking up, "His mother would never believe me and I can't tell Gus or Ruby because they would throw him out. I can't let him go on like this, but I don't know what else to do. I'm scared something's going to happen to him."

"Maybe I can talk some sense into him. It might be more effective having someone from the outside talking to him," Cody replied.

Lucy's eyes quickly lit up, "Really? You would do that? Oh my goodness, thank you so much! That would mean a lot," she spoke before her expression again faltered, "but please, don't hurt him."

"I won't," Cody nodded, "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you so much! I knew you seemed like someone I could trust. I just hope he'll listen," Lucy said clasping her hands together.

Cody nodded one last time and made his way back into the crowded marketplace looking around for Eli, bobbing and weaving his way around the vendors and customers as he searched high and low for the young man.

"A ha!" he said to himself as he spotted a grungy-haired young man in a tan jacket disappearing behind a small house with a knapsack slung over his shoulder. It was Eli Coleman, no doubt on his way to perform another business transaction. Cody looked over his shoulder to make sure no one would be following him and sought after him, following him down a narrow alleyway and bypassing a small group of carpenters before taking another left hand turn and coming to a halt when he heard the man's footsteps stop.

"Alright, I got what you needed here. The 'party time' variety just like you requested," Eli spoke.

"Alright, just give it to me dammit!" a scratchy voice he recognized called out.

"Hold it right there. You know how I do business, show me the caps, I show you the goods," Eli replied.

He peeked around the corner to find Eli conversing with another young man clad in a dirty pair of crudely-stitched overalls and a patched shirt, a narrow-faced individual with his greasy hair falling to the bottom of his neck and a pair of buck teeth sticking out like a beaver's.

"C'mon man, you know what I told you!" Skeeter replied, his voice jittery and his hands rattling.

"But nothing!" Eli snapped back at him, "I've got a business to run here and I'm not going to deal with someone who can't pay their tab. Either you give me what I want, or else we're finished."

"Look, I can get you some caps Eli, I promise, but it won't be until after dark. The guy's should be out at your mama's place and then I can slip into their room and swipe some. I know Andy's got a whole bag of 'em locked in the wardrobe. Give me a bobby pin and I can get 'em out for you in no time!" the chem-addled traveler spoke.

_"Andy's been complaining about some caps missing. Now I know who's responsible," _Cody said to himself, brow furrowing in disgust.

He had heard enough and stepped into the open, causing both men to nearly jump out of their skins.

"C-Co-Cody! What are you d-d-doing here?" Skeeter stammered looking around hurriedly like he was expecting an entire army to descend upon him.

"I could ask you the exact same thing," the prospector replied, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at his travel companion, who stumbled backwards into a stack of crates and sent them tumbling over.

"Oh...oh god! Don't tell Ted! Just don't!" Skeeter blurted out finding himself back into a corner and holding himself close.

Cody ignored the chem addict and made his way over to Eli, the young man also visibly unnerved and reaching for a pistol on instinct, yet finding nothing there.

"Eli, what are you doing? Don't you know you're going to get yourself in trouble if you keep this up?" he asked taking a step towards the man and snatching the bag away from him, opening it up to find it filled to the brim with illegal chems.

"Hey man, you just mind your own business!" the young man shouted back. His tone was aggressive, yet Cody could see the fear and uncertainty in his eyes.

"It might not be my business, but Lucy is worried about you," Cody replied before letting the bag fall to the ground.

Eli opened his mouth to speak, yet nothing came out and he looked away in shame.

"It's hopeless," he grumbled to himself slinking against the building in defeat.

"What's hopeless? What are you hoping to accomplish from this?" Cody demanded.

"I don't know. I...I just want to get away. There's nothing left for me here, but I don't know what else to do. I just need to get some caps so I can move somewhere else. Ugh, who the fuck am I kidding? I guess that's not gonna be happening now," he said looking up to Cody, his eyes now full of dread, "You're not going to tell Gus on me are you?"

Cody shook his head, "I'm sure there is still something for you here, if not for you, then at least there's gotta be something you can do for Lucy. I mean it, she's worried about you."

Eli again looked down to the ground and shook his head, "I don't believe it. Have I really been this selfish all this time? My god...I mean Lucy, my mom, everybody else here...God I was so stupid!"

Cody placed an assuring hand on his shoulder, "You're not too far gone Eli. You can still turn things around, but first you need to get rid of these chems before they can hurt someone else."

"You're right," he said picking the sack up, "I'm going to do just that. I'm gonna take these out and fucking bury them somewhere no one will ever find them. Thanks a lot for your help, I truly mean it."

"Any time," Cody nodded before looking back to Skeeter, who still remained huddled in the corner, "Why don't I come along with you? I think I know somewhere we could get rid of these."

"Uh sure, yeah. Why don't you?" Eli said nodding uncertainly towards him and the duo made their way back into the open towards the marketplace.

"Man, I'm so looking forward to getting rid of these," he said motioning to the bag hanging over his shoulder, "I can't believe I let it come down to this. I mean, what if my mother had found out. God, I can't believe I was this stupid."

"It's alright. You've made a mistake, but now you're going to learn from it. It's a good thing I got to you when I did," Cody said walking alongside him, "If you don't mind me asking, just where did you get these?" he asked, lowering his tone as they walked past another town guard.

The front gates slowly opened and both Ruby and a guard stood at the ready as a young man with wild red hair held back by a bright red bandana stepped through, a bloody machete strapped to his side. Immediately Eli's gaze fell as he recognized the man.

"Alright mister, that's far enough," Ruby called out keeping her hand gripped on the caravan shotgun's handle, "Now if you don't mind me asking, what are you doing here?" she demanded, her eyes fixated on the bloodied blade.

"Whoa, whoa easy there lady! I ain't here to cause any trouble!" the man said raising one hand defensively, the other lifting a burlap sack with its bottom stained crimson, causing a few onlookers to step back in horror.

"You give out rewards don't cha?" the man asked gently placing the sack on the ground before backing away with both hands raised, "You know, bounties for high-ranking raiders? I killed one of them and I'm here to collect a reward!"

Ruby kept her gaze firmly locked on the shifty fellow as she slowly inched forward and prodded the sack with her boot. Cocking her head the other guard stepped up from behind and knelt down to open the bag, wincing at the raw odor that assaulted his nostrils.

"He's not kidding. I recognize this man," the guard spoke looking down into the bag, "That's Bomber Krieg's head! He's a member of the Road Ragers. The Regulators have had bounties posted for this guy for nearly a year now."

Ruby still regarded the man warily as she now approached the opened back and cautiously looked down, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Hmm, perhaps you are telling the truth. I'll have Albatross contact the Regulator HQ to set you up with something. Due to regulations I can't let you leave until they confirm the suspect's identity," she said before turning her attention to the guard, "Speak to Gus and tell him to set this man up with something for overnight."

The guard nodded and made his way for the motel just as the man finally lowered his hands and began laughing heartily, "Hey, that's fine by me! Been a while since I've enjoyed a warm meal and a warm bed!"

Then Ruby turned to face him and his laughter stopped.

Making her way over she reached down and forcefully removed the machete from its holster followed by a 10mm pistol concealed beneath his hooded sweatshirt. "I'll be keeping these. Until then, I expect you to behave yourself. If I hear even one word about you causing any trouble, you _will_ be out the door."

With those words the sheriff went about her way and the redheaded man looked on in stunned silence until he looked over and caught sight of Eli, his gaping mouth forming into a grin.

"Eli, hey buddy! What's up?" the man said walking over and clapping him on the shoulder, "I haven't seen you around for a while now. How have you been?"

Eli could only look away in embarrassment and mutter, "Now is really not a good time Crockett."

"What the hell are you talking about man?" he cried out with a shrug of his shoulders, "I'm here. You're here, what fun isn't to be had?"

It was then Crockett looked over to Cody and noted his steely gaze, taking a step backward.

"Please, it's really not a good time for you to be around here," Eli repeated looking down to his sack.

"You've still got some of the stash-" Crockett started, only to be cut off by Eli clamping a hand over his mouth.

"Shut up!" he hissed.

"I don't think he's informed you, but he's not doing that anymore," Cody said getting in the man's face, "Now I don't know what you want from him, but he's trying to make a new life for himself and he doesn't need you coming along and ruining it. Unless you are looking for something _extremely_ important, I'd be keeping my distance if I were you."

"What the hell man?" Crockett asked staring towards him incredulously, "Look, I'm just here trying to do a good deed for once! That man was a slimebag and he tried to kill me. I took him down after a very tense struggle and now he's not around to hurt anybody else! Isn't that good enough for you?"

Cody eyed the man with great suspicion, wondering if his story was entirely adding up.

Here was a fidgety, scrawny man barely over five foot seven who looked like he could barely lift the deadly blade that had been strapped to his side. How could he possibly kill a badass raider?

Crockett said nothing further and went about his way leaving the two men alone in front of the gate.

"C'mon," Cody said grabbing Eli by the shoulder and leading him towards the entrance. With a nod the guards opened the gate for them and they made their way outside.

All appeared calm for now on the outside as the duo made their way towards an empty ravine where Eli believed he could possibly destroy the chems without harming anybody else, a place he likes to visit when he needs time alone. As soon as they were out of earshot Cody leaned over towards him.

"I take it Crockett was the guy you got those chems from?"

Eli nodded.

"Another guy I gotta get away from. He's always trying to get rich quick. With all the junkies around these parts, if he were any smarter he'd be a damned millionaire right now. Goddamn it, I shouldn't have listened to him, bastard's gonna get us both killed."

"He won't if you don't let him," Cody replied while stepping around a Sleipnir skull with a bullet hole through the center.

"You're right. I hope not," Eli said looking off into the distance.

Unknown to both men they were being watched closely, the observer lowering his binoculars and making his way over to a waiting motorcycle.

That little punk was here and he was going to pay!

XXXXX

**Author's Note: **And so ends the first chapter of my attempted rewrite, hoping this comes off as better than the original.

Now onto some random notes:

The customized varmint rifle's name 'Annie' is a nod to the famed sharpshooter Annie Oakley and would be a reflection upon Cody's marksmanship abilities, although I won't be making him some kind of Mary Sue/Marty Stu type who _never_ misses a shot, but he's still pretty damn good.

The Sleipnir is going to be one of my original animals added to the mix. The Sleipnir will be an 8 legged horse that is inspired by Odin's horse of the same name from Norse mythology. I always found it odd how in a Wild Western-inspired setting like New Vegas you would find two-headed cattle and oversized rams, yet you would never find anything inspired by horses and I would obviously assume that if you can have those running around, then you'd damn sure have mutant horses too.

Bomber Krieg is the recycled name of a character I featured in a discontinued Street Fighter fic I had up a few years ago, I thought it would be a good name for an automobile-themed raider gang.

The scene with Cody talking Eli out of dealing illegal chems was a scenario I thought up that I thought would be similar to something encountered in a game, in this case him convincing Eli to give up his self-destructive job where he could have multiple outcomes: allow him to continue dealing and let him become a merchant you can purchase addictive chems from, convince him to give up dealing through violent means, which would result in him fleeing Rodeo Plaza only to be discovered dead in the wastes days later (for negative karma), or to convince him to give it up through peaceful means, which won't get you much, but still allow you to feel like a saint in the end.

Well hopefully I'll be able to keep this story running longer than the original and as always your feedback will be greatly appreciated. This is your friend neighborhood Metal Harbinger saying SPREAD THE SICKNESS, ONE MIND AT A TIME! \m/


	3. When Things Go to Shit in a Wasteland Mi

Chapter 2: When Things Go to Shit in a Wasteland Minute

"Ha! I win again! Read 'em and weep!" Ralphie said tossing the cards onto the table and slamming his hands down so hard the empty bottles rattled.

"We were playing Caravan, dumbass!" Walt said laying down his own cards, "Sheesh, you always gotta change the game right under our noses?"

"Only when he's getting his ass kicked," Dicky added before punching the 'victor' in the arm.

"Hey, fuck you! You just can't accept the fact that I'm better than your slow ass!" Ralphie shot back raising his forearm to block another blow directed at his upper arm.

"But we can accept the fact that you're a little fucking rat!" Walt grunted reaching for an unopened beer.

Cody yawned loudly and stretched his arms before reaching for his third Nuka-Cola and a handful of potato chips in the bowl at the center of the circular table. He chuckled quietly to himself as the trio went about their bickering, the impartial observer role all too common for him, especially when it came to competitions between Ralphie and Walt.

Night had fallen and the quartet was relaxing in their motel room. Ted was only able to get three rooms set aside and due to the size of his travel party, each room would be split between four people. The room Cody and his friends got had only two single person beds and they were using card games to determine who would get the beds and who would be forced to sleep on the floor. Given his terrible luck with card games the young prospector resigned himself to the possibility of sleeping on the hard surface.

_"Oh well, won't be the end of the world," _he told himself, having slept in worse conditions with nothing more than a ratty old bedroll to protect him from the ground beneath.

Aside from the two beds there was also a sofa, table and chairs, a television (which no longer worked), a wardrobe and a few footlockers for storing equipment. There was also an attached bathroom with working plumbing that supplied clean water, both even rarer amenities in the wastes and yet another source of constant income for the motel, in addition to a fully stocked first aid box. There was also a radio present on the nightstand between the two beds, which currently played some uplifting big band music that would have made the prospector want to get up and dance if he didn't have two left feet. It was the kind of environment Cody bristled at the thought of leaving, yet tried to make the most out of what time he had left there.

He was so caught up in his own thoughts he didn't even clearly make out the joke Ralphie had just told, prompting a raucous laughter from both Dicky and Walt, followed by a sudden pounding on the wall.

"Hey, keep it down over there will you? Some people are trying to fucking sleep here!" Louie called from next door.

"Oh boo hoo hoo! Cry me a fucking river why don't you?" Ralphie shouted back.

"How about I come over there and paint that room with your guts?" the quartermaster shouted.

Ralphie was about to launch another comeback when Cody gripped him by the shoulder, "Dude, you'd better calm down. I sure as hell don't wanna get my ass booted outta here like you almost did back in Carbon!"

"Heh, sure thing Mom! What's next? I gotta wash behind my ears? Gotta brush and floss before bed? No burping at the dinner table?" the marksman spat.

"You'll never change," Cody replied with another eye roll followed by a shudder, "I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing with you."

"Would you really have me any other way?" Ralphie jokingly called back reaching over and patting him on the shoulder. "Of course you wouldn't!"

"Of course not," Cody replied with a weak shrug before rising to his feet.

"What's up? You're not gonna stay and watch me wipe the floor with these two clowns some more?" Ralphie squawked motioning towards a visibly annoyed Dicky and Walt.

"Nah, I need to get some fresh air, but thanks anyway," Cody said stretching some more and making his way for the door, "Just don't make too much of a mess you three."

He stepped out into the cool night air and took a deep breath and found it rather pleasant smelling, almost like Abraxo cleaner. The night was still fairly young and quite a few locals were still out and about so he decided he would see what was happening and descended the stairs into the marketplace.

The stands had closed down for the night, yet a few of the vendors had remained to socialize with the locals. Most had gathered around a campfire where Bighorn Bob sang another song about the hard life on the range, this time accompanied by the scavenger who arrived earlier, the man pulling out a harmonica to accompany the busker's guitar. The folks seemed to enjoy the music and clapped along when called upon.

Not everybody was focused on the performance and beyond the crowd he was able to make out both Ein and Ghee seated at a small circular table playing chess. With nothing else to do he decided to go over and make some small talk. Ein wasn't exactly his ideal person to socialize with, yet he was hopeful Ghee would have found something worthwhile on that fancy Pip-Boy of his.

"Checkmate. You lose again Mr. Ghee," Ein said moving the final piece into position, briefly halting as he sensed Cody approaching. "Ah, the prodigal son returns!" he chimed never taking his eyes away from the board.

"No Ein, I'm not looking to play," Cody said walking up to the intellectual and then turning his attention to Ghee, "Hear anything interesting lately?" he asked looking down to the man's Pip-Boy.

"I don't hear that beeping anymore, so I'm guessing whoever was trying to send it either got the help they needed...or worse," the navigator spoke with a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"We are but 'humble prospectors.' It is not our job to engage in heroics," Ein spoke up shifting his pieces back into their starting positions, "I wouldn't lose any sleep over such possibilities."

"Easy for you to say. Being the scrawny bookworm you are, you'd be dead at the drop of a hat and you know it," Ghee retorted.

Ein only furrowed his brow at the navigator before pushing his glasses back into place and sitting straight up. Clearing his throat he spoke, "Do you wish to continue debating the need for such senseless altruism, or shall we continue?"

"Hey boys, what's up?" Stanzi called out from behind, her arrival thwarting another possible verbal showdown between the two brainiacs.

"Oh hey there, not much," Cody replied with a friendly wave as the flame-haired woman approached, resting the cowboy repeater against her shoulder. "How about yourself?"

The woman sighed, "Just about to go on guard duty. Fun, ain't it?"

"Unless another feral happens across here you'll at least have something to shoot at," Ghee spoke up moving his chess pieces back into place.

"Don't know about that. I think you and the boys cleared out most of them earlier today," Stanzi said looking over to Cody, "I think the only challenge I'm gonna have is staying awake."

"I'm not doing anything else. I could keep you company," Cody said knowing he probably wouldn't get much of anything out of Ein and Ghee.

"That's sweet of you. You can suffer along with me," the woman laughed before making her way towards the motel, "Best not keep me waiting."

"Right behind you," Cody said walking after her past the gathered audience.

The duo reached the hotel and it wasn't long before they were climbing the oft traveled ladder that would take them to the rooftop. When they arrived they both quietly steeled themselves upon spotting Delton resting near the ledge tucking a fresh cigarette between his lips and pulling out a gold-plated lighter. He waited to light up his cigarette before turning to face his arrivals and exhale a long column of smoke.

"I'm here to relieve you," Stanzi said to the one-eyed man.

The enigmatic fellow harrumphed and rose from the lawn chair before slinging his rifle over his back and making his way past them without a word.

"And goodbye to you too, pal," Stanzi muttered under her breath making her way over to the lawn chair he once occupied and scooped up the pair of binoculars. Cody took a position next to her and switched on his scope's night vision and peered through.

"Everything looks clear so far," he spoke, seeing nothing but a barren wasteland.

"And I thought I was supposed to be the one on watch," Stanzi replied lowering the binoculars and giving him a playful swat on the shoulder.

"Just trying to make things easier for you," he jokingly shot back, "Thought you'd be grateful."

"Don't flatter yourself pretty boy," the ex-Regulator chuckled.

Several minutes would pass in silence before Stanzi spoke up, "So...what do you think you're going to do if this school gives us a big jackpot?"

Cody cocked an eyebrow towards his friend, "Excuse me?"

"Don't tell me you're going deaf already," she scoffed, "Have you given any thought about what you're going to do if you ever find 'the mother load' as you're always putting it? You're looking for something that's gonna get you a lot of caps, that tells me you gotta be planning something."

"Oh..." Cody said looking away finding himself at a loss for words.

"You really don't wanna spend the rest of your life on the road do you?" she asked.

"I guess not," he replied forcing himself to give an answer, "At...I...I...I just don't know what's up afterward we find some big score. I would like to get away from all this traveling, but at the same time I've been doing this for most of my life and...well I don't know what I'd do if that happened. I'm just always used to moving around."

"I hear you there," the redhead replied, "I'm used to being on the move too. I think that's the only thing that's kept me clean for as long as it has." Her gaze darkened as she looked into his eyes, "I'm just afraid that if I plant myself in one place too long I'm gonna end up going back to my old ways."

"Don't even think like that. You've come a long way. We're all proud of you and I believe you've truly taken Ted's words to heart. You accomplished it without Fixer! How many people can say they've done that? You're the only person I can think of," Cody said placing an assuring hand on her shoulder.

Stanzi sat quietly in deep thought before looking back to him and smiling, "Thanks Cody, that means a lot. You've always been a great friend. Even with some of the assholes in the group, you've always treated me fair."

"Anytime. That's what friends are for," Cody smiled back.

The two friends sat in relative silence for the next few minutes just gazing at the stars above until Cody's ears perked up when he heard a noise not that common anywhere in the wastes – the sound of a large truck approaching.

XXXXX

Albatross was getting ready to call it a night and rose from his chair, popping all of his joints back into place before scooping up his sniper rifle.

Aside from a few sightings of feral ghouls it had been a largely uneventful day, a welcome occurrence to the veteran guard.

"Time to hit the sack, but first things first," he said to himself reaching down and picking up the radio's transceiver, "Ruby, I'm calling it a night. Go ahead and send Virgil up."

_"Can do," _the sheriff replied, _"You might wanna head over to Vannah's. I hear she's got some of that radscorpion casserole you like cooking up as we speak."_

Albatross smiled at the news, "I guess bedtime can wait a few extra minutes," he spoke into the receiver before setting it down.

As was customary by all guardsmen he scooped up the pair of binoculars for one last scan of the horizon and peered through.

All he could see was the barren land around them, contradicted by the bright twinkling stars in the nighttime sky above, a strange combination of gloom and beauty. It never failed to make him wonder what the land was probably like before the bombs fell, how people must have led much simpler lives back then.

A low rumble suddenly caught his attention and he peered in the eastward direction where he spotted a small pillar of smoke that gradually grew in size until a flat-nosed semi came speeding into view, followed by four cars, several motorcycles and a Humvee.

"What the hell?" he asked watching as the convoy drew closer until he saw something that made his mouth fall agape.

On the front of the semi he spotted two large red R's outlined in black spray paint.

"Road Ragers," he muttered.

The Road Ragers were one of the most notorious raider gangs in the area, noted for their access to working automobiles, a rarity in the wastes and one that made them twice as dangerous as any other band of miscreants.

Trouble was afoot and the sentry nearly dropped his rifle as he scrambled for the radio's transceiver.

"Ruby! Ruby pick up!" he shouted.

_"Albatross, what's wrong?" _the sheriff asked.

"Tell everybody to get ready. We have Road Ragers approaching!" he shouted as the convoy drew closer.

An audible gasp sounded from the other end before the woman finally spoke, _"I'm on it. Putting the entire community under lock down!"_

Albatross didn't reply, scrambling to get his rifle into position as the convoy slowed its pace and the Humvee sped in front of the semi before screeching to a halt, the rest of the vehicles soon following. He then watched as a man climbed into the camouflaged vehicle's turret with a megaphone in hand.

The sentry's gaze did not waver as he heard the plodding footsteps coming from behind.

"Albatross," Ruby called out taking a position alongside her colleague.

The lawwoman withdrew her caravan shotgun and quietly watched the man about to speak, a burly, bearded fellow wearing a motorcycle helmet that had a cracked skull on the front with two wrenches crisscrossed beneath it.

"What the hell's going on here?" a raspy voice called out from behind as a tall, bald robust man of African descent stepped in with a service rifle at the ready.

"It's the Road Ragers, Gus. I don't know what they want, but it can't be good," Ruby replied.

It was then the man with the megaphone spoke.

_"Whoever is in charge there, speak up now or else we're coming in!" _the helmeted man shouted.

Gus eyed the raiders warily before he fiddled with the radio's microphone and switched on the town's intercom system, "I am, Gus Morgan. What do you fellas want?"

_"Don't play dumb with me!" _the man boomed before composing himself, _"We know you're hiding that little piece of shit who killed one of our own so I'm only gonna say this once, hand over Crockett or else the Road Ragers are gonna roll in and we're gonna burn your fucking shithole of a town to the ground!"_

Gus knew what the man was talking about and looked over to Ruby and Albatross, remembering that same punk kid who had strolled in earlier in the day with that raider's severed head in hand demanding some kind of reward. Nothing else had been heard from him since Ruby confiscated his weapons, but it was safe to assume he was probably hiding somewhere with his tail tucked between his legs. Something wasn't right about the way he claimed to have gotten his hands on that raider's head.

_"Well what's it gonna be Gussy Boy? You gonna turn that little rat bastard over, or are we gonna have to come in and burn you down? You got ten seconds to turn him over!" _the Road Rager shouted.

"Damn that little punk," Gus sighed shaking his head. He wanted to find him and ring him by the neck for leading these raiders to his doorstep, yet at the same time it would have been cruel to just turn him over, knowing firsthand what those inhuman raiders did to their victims.

"You'd better think up something fast, Gus. I don't think those bastards have any intention of letting us off either way," Ruby said clenching her shotgun close to her chest.

Meanwhile on the other end, Gearhead, the leader of the Road Ragers stood perched in the Humvee's turret with the .50 caliber machine gun in front of him at the ready. Bomber Krieg, his closest friend and quite possibly the baddest motherfucker he had ever known, had been taken out by some snot-nosed punk and he was left hungry for blood.

"You're not just gonna let 'em off, are you Gearhead?" a raspy voice called from his left and he looked down to see a massive Mohawked man wearing spiked shoulder pads, a crude sword crafted from a rusty car bumper strapped to his back, his lieutenant known only as Bumper.

"What the hell do you think?" the leader shot back, inviting an excited cackle from the brute.

Gearhead turned to face the rest of his loyal followers, all of whom were clad in patchwork armor made from metal, leather and whatever other materials they found lying around, a few of them carrying makeshift shields fashioned from battered old road signs. They were primarily armed with melee weapons and small arms, a few also carrying semi-automatic shotguns and assault rifles, the notable exceptions being Orchid and Blockbuster, who carried a grenade rifle and missile launcher respectively.

He could see the murder in their eyes. They were itching for a massacre. Ordering them to turn back would have been a fruitless endeavor. There was no stopping them when they had come this far and there was only one thing he could do.

A smile creeping from the corners of his mouth he turned to face the fortified establishment of Rodeo Plaza and shouted.

"Road Ragers, roll out!"

A chorus of hoots and hollers filled the air, followed by the semi's blaring horn as it made its charge for the front gates.

XXXXX

A thunderous crash filled the air as the front gates were reduced to splinters, a former Nuka-Cola semi-truck barreling through and running over most of the marketplace vending booths. What followed was a bunch of mangy raiders, all of them frothing from their mouths like rabid dogs.

Any initial shock Cody Shivers and Stanzi Sampson felt quickly washed away and they raised their guns knowing what they had to do.

Peering through Annie's scope, Cody set his sights on a filthy shirtless man equipped with a spiked baseball bat and put a round through his unprotected chest before he could bash an innocent man's skull in. He then switched his aim to a dark-skinned man armed with a .45 auto submachine gun that was firing madly upon some fleeing locals, firing a round into his shoulder that left him collapsing to the ground in agony. He was about to finish the thug off, but things were growing more and more chaotic by the second as frightened townspeople darted back and forth across his sights and he backed down not wanting to hit any innocent bystanders.

Stanzi remained perched next to him firing away with her cowboy repeater, her gunfire halted as a portion of shingle exploded near her kneecap, yet there was no resounding bang meaning the shooter had a silencer. Things were growing more precarious by the minute and they needed to find the others fast.

"Come on!" Cody shouted to the ex-Regulator and made his way for the ladder, gripping the sides and sliding down followed closely by his friend. Their timing had been impeccable as a sudden explosion occurred, knocking both prospectors from their feet and showering them in debris.

The young man's ears were left ringing and his vision swimming as he struggled to his knees before gripping onto the nearby railing and pulling himself back to his feet. He staggered about until he collided with another solid form and it was then his hearing came back to him.

"Cody, what the fuck?" the familiar voice called out.

Taking time to regain his bearings he found Walt standing before him struggling to maintain his grip on the battle rifle, Ralphie and Dicky both taking cover behind metal tables set up as improvised shields while Skeeter cowered in the nearby motel room.

"Road Ragers, that's what," Dicky replied before popping out from behind the table to take a potshot with his lever-action rifle.

Cody knew why they were here, having overheard the leader's demand that they turn over the drifter called Crockett.

"I wonder how the hell they found out he was here," Ralphie spoke up like he could read Cody's thoughts.

"I don't know, but we gotta find the others and stop these bastards," Dicky replied before kneeling behind his cover and fishing through his coat pockets for any extra rounds.

The shatter of glass sounded from behind causing everybody to jump. Cody looked over his shoulder to see the room's window behind them with a large hole drilled through it, outlined in a splatter of crimson. He didn't need to be told what had just happened. Even if Skeeter had been a chem addict he still didn't deserve such a fate.

The young prospector looked towards the direction the shot had come from and spotted the glint of moonlight off a glass surface. He reached for Annie and made sure he had enough rounds left in his current clip before rising to a kneeling position. He had a very limited window of time and needed to make this shot count. Taking a deep breath he peeked the rifle's barrel over the railing and took aim, able to make out a shadowy figure lying in a prone position on the rooftop of a ramshackle dwelling. With a squeeze of his trigger the unknown fellow collapsed face first onto the sheet metal rooftop.

One threat had been eliminated, but there were still several more to follow as faded red Highwayman sped in through the compromised gates followed by a once baby blue pickup truck, more ravenous pillagers emerging from the wooden-walled flatbed behind the cab. They were then followed by the Humvee that had been leading the charge, a thunderous rattle filling the air as the gunner depressed the machine gun's trigger, cutting through a few unfortunate locals and sending the prospectors scrambling for cover.

"These people are fucking crazy!" Walt shouted over the machine gun's clatter, trying to keep himself as low to the mezzanine's floor as possible.

"Tell us something we don't already know," Ralphie shouted back, wincing as bits of plaster and stone showered him, the high-caliber rounds tearing through the walls above him like a hot knife through butter.

Things were getting desperate and something needed to be done fast or else the whole community would burn to the ground around them.

Cody peered through the wooden railing at the gunner and crawled along the floor on his belly with Annie at his side. He waited as the lunatic switched his sights on other targets and again took aim about to squeeze the trigger when Stanzi suddenly called out from behind him.

"Cody, look out!"

"Time to die pretty boy!" a madman cackled from above and next thing he knew the young marksman found his beloved rifle being kicked out of his hands. He looked up to find a grungy raider standing tall over him with a handmade machete in one hand and a heavily-defaced _'STOP'_ sign in the other, the blood lust plain as day in his dark eyes.

His mind screamed at him to act. Annie was now out of reach, but then he suddenly remembered the Regulator Sequoia in his holster and his hand shot downward to grasp its wooden grip, rolling to the side just in time to dodge the blade that would have split his skull wide open. Lying on his side he raised the revolver and squeezed the trigger five times. The man thrashed violently as .45-70 Gov't rounds tore through his unarmored chest and he sagged to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.

Less than a second later Cody could feel himself being pulled to his feet and reacting instinctively he shot his elbow backwards only for his arm to be twisted behind him before his whole body was spun around and he was hitting the bullet-riddled wall behind him.

"Easy there, tough guy," Louie Ramos said having finally arrived and shoving Annie back into his hands.

"C'mon, we've gotta help the others!" the quartermaster shouted over the rattle of gunfire.

XXXXX

Elsewhere in the besieged community Jenson Ghee and Ein stood at each others' side, the navigator's combat shotgun bucking wildly in his hands while red lights slashed through the nighttime sky compliments of the intellectual's laser pistol, all of his shots missing their mark due to his lack of combative experience.

"Do you think you could maybe try hitting your target for once?" Ghee shouted in exasperation while taking cover behind a section of charred cinder block.

"Obviously you are aware combat is not my expertise!" the bespectacled man shouted back before firing yet another shot that missed its mark.

"Then you shouldn't have passed on those shooting lessons Ralphie offered!" Ghee retorted before his shotgun clicked empty and he was sent fishing for more shells.

"Do you honestly believe I would ever be eager to spend more time than I have to around that boorish ruffian?" Ein called back.

A second later the man's head was pulverized into a crimson mist, sending bits of blood, brain and bone matter spraying onto the navigator's face, leaving him frozen in horror with a strangled whimper escaping his lips.

"Yummy, yummy in my tummy! Fresh meat boys!" a woman laughed harshly stepping into view with a fire axe in her hands, the goggles attached to her leather skull cap hiding the blood lust in her eyes. She was soon joined by three more Road Ragers, all of them glaring insanely upon the lone navigator, who could feel his bladder emptying at the sight before him.

There was no remorse from the evil raiders, all of them laughing in a cold-blooded frenzy.

The crunching of bone and ripping of flesh halted the Ragers' fun as a pneumatic power fist drove its way through the woman's chest and the mechanical buzzing of a Ripper sent the remaining raiders' heads clattering to the ground.

Ghee shot his eyes open to find Delton standing tall above him, the one-eyed man's metal armor soaked in the blood of his latest kills. With a curt nod the man disappeared from sight.

"Ghee!" the familiar voice of Andy Ziegers called out and he found himself lifted to his feet by two pairs of hands, the medic joined by Ted Sanderson.

"Where are the others?" Ted demanded before firing upon some unseen attackers with his service rifle.

It took some time for Ghee to regain his wits before he spoke, "I don't know. They should be around here somewhere!"

"Well we've gotta find them and stop these freaks," Ted replied before firing a burst from his service rifle that traveled along a skinny raider's chest and up to his throat before he clicked empty. He was about to reach for a new magazine when a 10mm round struck him in the thigh, sending him scrambling for cover behind a dumpster.

"Ted!" Andy called out leaping behind the metal container with him and digging through his first aid kit for anything he could find.

"Just get me a damn stimpak," the veteran prospector shouted while loading a fresh clip into his rifle.

"But you've been-" Andy started only to be cut off.

"Just do it!" Ted demanded before popping into the open and firing a burst that knocked a charging raider off his motorcycle, the unmanned cycle charging head on into a metal shack and exploding into a small mushroom cloud that would saturate the already polluted air with even more radiation.

Grunting in defeat Andy withdrew a stimpak and jabbed the needle into the old man's bullet hole and depressing the plunger, numbing the man's pain and restoring some of his strength to the wounded appendage.

"Now let's move!" Ted ordered as the roar of motorcycle engines came from nearby and he led the way towards the motel followed closely by both men.

XXXXX

The boom of a shotgun resounded in the enclosed space and with it a Road Rager slumped against a shack's exterior wall with his intestines torn to shreds.

Ruby Stone fell back fumbling through her pockets for any spare shells as she provided cover for Gus, the motel owner popping out to fire potshots at the grubby invaders. At their feet lay Albatross, the sentry having bravely sacrificed himself to shield the law woman from a sniper's bullet.

"Dammit, why Albatross?" she quietly asked herself while looking over her shoulder.

Seth and Eli Coleman both stood behind them with weapons at the ready, the old repairman holding a .32 pistol that accommodated his arthritic hands and Eli being given the deceased watchman's sniper rifle. Huddled behind them were Doc Graham's daughter Lucy and Abby, the sweet little 8-year old who served lemonade from her own little stand. The young woman held the child closely, holding her hands over her ears in an effort to block out the gunshots, explosions and dying screams around them, but it was no use and the little girl kept murmuring about being scared.

It broke her heart to see such a sight. Even if they lived in a harsh wasteland where death was an everyday occurrence, she still felt no child should ever have to witness such atrocities taking place, the law woman having seen plenty herself while traveling the caravan trails with her father growing up.

"How are you doing for ammo?" Gus half-shouted to her, wincing as a thunderous boom came from the distance and nearly knocked him from his feet.

"Not good," she replied jamming two shells into the caravan shotgun's barrels, "I'm down to six more after this and my 10mm is pretty low on ammo too. There's more of them than I thought!"

Gus was about to reply when a volley of fire struck the wall perilously close to his head, filling his opened mouth and eyes with dust and causing him to gag violently.

"More of them over there!" a raider called out before firing another burst.

"Shit! Move!" Gus shouted to his group before firing another barrage and retreating down the alley. The six locals moved into another open area only to come to a screeching halt.

Above them a Road Rager laughed madly while hoisting a missile launcher onto his shoulder.

"This one ties the game!" the psychopath called out just before a bullet found its way between his eyes.

The group looked to see the ex-Regulator Stanzi standing with a smoking cowboy repeater in hand, followed by the other members from her group.

"Thanks! We owe you one!" Ruby shouted.

More feral cries sounded from their left and they turned to find more feral raiders charging towards them with weapons raised.

"You don't owe us anything yet," Stanzi shouted back raising her repeater.

XXXXX

"Jesus, how many of these fuck stains are there?" Ralphie called out before firing another round from his hunting rifle.

There was no time for Cody to answer his question as he leaped backwards to avoid a Road Rager charging after him with a serrated knife in hand, barely managing to avoid the man's swing. The grungy man caught himself, yet turned around only to receive a steel-toed boot to the groin before the prospector smacked him in the jaw with his rifle's butt. As soon as the first raider fell another was there to take his place, swinging a lead pipe directed at the young man's head and causing him to again drop his rifle. With no other choice Cody pulled out his trench knife and buried its spiked knuckle guard into the man's chin with a vicious uppercut before kicking him away, Louie then stepping up to finish the punk with a barrage from his 10mm submachine gun.

"Thanks man, I owe you one," Cody said to Louie while scooping up Annie.

"Anytime bro," the quartermaster called back before firing upon another group of raiders.

Not too far away Walt and Dicky both held their own against the invading Ragers, Walt having been forced to discard his emptied battle rifle and now shooting it out with his 10mm pistol, while Dicky was down to fighting with his trusted Louisville Slugger, driving the end into the stomach of a hockey masked thug before bringing it down on top of his head after he buckled over.

"Home run!" Dicky shouted triumphantly before bringing his bat up to block a blow from a tire iron-wielding menace and kicking the man in the gut before shattering his jawbone with a powered up swing. "Not safe tonight, pal!"

The loud buzz of a motorcycle's engine came from behind and the bat-wielding prospector jumped.

"Dicky, look out!" Walt shouted.

He was too late.

The prospector turned just in time to be met by a homemade sword crafted from a rusty bumper, striking him in his poorly guarded chest.

"One to nothing!" the massive man cackled before turning his attention to Walt, "You're next!" he called and stepped on the gas.

There was only one thing Walt could do and that was run.

"There they are!" Andy shouted over the fracas, spotting the rest of his surviving companions gathered near the motel fighting for their lives against the relentless raiders.

"Well what are we waiting for?" Ted asked running alongside him with Ghee in tow.

The trio made their way over to where Gus Morgan, Ruby Stone and Seth had all taken cover behind a sandbag wall, all three of them dangerously low on ammo and even closer to being overrun by their bold assailants.

"'Bout time you showed up," Gus shouted before pointing his rifle's barrel over the fortification and blind firing.

"Not our fault we got a bunch of piss ant hoodlums wanting to raze the town," Ted replied before firing a barrage of his own.

"And I know you certainly didn't ask for the snot-nosed punk who led them here," Ghee shouted before using his Pip-Boy's Vault-Tec Assisted Targeting System to target the torso of another grubby raider, firing a blast from his combat shotgun that ripped a massive hole into his bare chest.

The locals ignored their comments and continued firing upon the Road Ragers, one of whom reached for a stick of dynamite strapped to his chest and pulled out a lighter to ignite the fuse. Ruby was onto the guy and took aim with her 10mm pistol, firing a round that crippled his arm and caused him to drop the projectile, sending his buddies scattering while the dirty man was swallowed whole.

"Nice shootin' there, Ruby," Seth complimented, lying flat on his back as he scrambled for fresh rounds.

"Ain't no time to be yappin'," Gus shouted to the old maintenance man as he fired another salvo from his rifle. The burly man continued firing until a train whistle suddenly called out and a second later the man was on the pavement writhing in agony, a railroad spike sticking out of his forearm.

"Gus!" Ruby shouted taking a protective position over the wounded proprietor.

"Andy, help him!" Ted shouted taking aim upon the culprit, a burly, bearded man wearing a motorcycle helmet that had a design on the front resembling the Jolly Roger of pirate folklore, armed with some kind of custom-built weapon that fired railway spikes. He had the man in his sights and was prepared to pull the trigger when the roar of an engine called out and a motorcycle raced past the barricade, barely dodging the swipe of the owner's chainsaw. When he rose back to his feet the man was gone.

"Son of a bitch!" the old man spat.

XXXXX

"That's some nice hardware you're packin' there. Why don't you make it easy on yourself and hand it over, Pops!" the raider called out, his assault carbine leveled on the one-eyed man's chest.

Delton was outnumbered five to one, standing quietly with his 12.7mm in one hand and .45 auto in the other, his assailants carrying assault weapons and shotguns.

"Do as we say and we might make it quick and painless for you," shouted a woman with her hair shaved into a strange double Mohawk hairstyle, something he was familiar with from his time out west.

Her promise was nothing but hot air. He knew these types, they were as merciless as you could get.

"What's the matter? Cougar got your tongue?" shouted another creep who wore a necklace of human ears, his combat shotgun focused on the prospector's nether region.

Again Delton remained silent and sized them up carefully. They were nothing more than piss ant hoodlums who probably had very little if any training in the usage of their weaponry as it was for most raiders, known for their sloppy shooting in a desperate attempt to hit anything as opposed to carefully lining up their shots and conserving ammo.

All he could do now was focus on the footsteps creeping up behind him.

Without warning he suddenly ducked, dodging the axe swing directed at his head. His abrupt action caused the jumpy raiders to open fire, but he was not hit as he grabbed the would-be attacker's leather straps that held his spiked shoulder pads in place, spinning the man around and using him as a human shield, the rounds tearing through his exposed skin.

With the raider down Delton quickly raised his guns and immediately dropped two of the attackers before staggering backwards when he was hit by a few rounds, his metal armor saving him. He bolted for cover behind a concrete wall and unclasped a fragmentation grenade attached to his harness and pulled the pin, chucking it over his cover. An 'Oh shit!' rang out, followed by a deafening explosion and a wet splat as the upper torso of a man in piecemeal leather and metal armor landed next to him.

Rising back to his feet Delton again found himself nearly knocked from his feet as an unseen force collided with his back. The one-eyed man whirled around ready to knock another raider's head off, only to stop himself when he looked into the frightened eyes of a young shaggy-haired man carrying a military-grade sniper rifle he was visibly uncomfortable holding.

"Oh god, Lucy! Where is she? I've gotta find her!" the man blurted out before he heard a woman's voice and began running towards its source.

That kid was scared of his own shadow and would get himself killed trying to play hero so Delton decided to follow after him.

The chase led him down to the strip mall where a massive Mohawked man on a motorcycle had just run his companion Walt through with a large blade that looked to have been a car bumper at one point, dragging the man's lurching form behind him until he spotted a young woman in a flower-patterned spring dress and sped after her.

"Lucy!" the young man shouted foolishly attempting to fire his rifle from the hip, its powerful recoil knocking him from his feet.

The Mohawk biker sped uninterrupted towards the fleeing woman, eventually catching up and scooping her up with his meaty arm.

"Well ain't you a pretty little thing?" the mad biker cackled before coming to a full turn and charging head on towards the recovering young man who was barely saved thanks to Delton's intervention, the one-eyed man pulling him out of harm's way and raising his 12.7 to take a shot at the kidnapper, but there were still too many people darting back and forth for him to get a clear shot. He could only grunt in frustration.

XXXXX

Cody had regained his bearings and raised the Regulator Sequoia, taking aim and firing a round into the throat of a raider advancing upon Louie as the quartermaster fumbled for a new 10mm clip. Getting directly in front of the man he again raised the powerful double-action revolver and fired a round that punched through the speed limit sign another marauder used as an improvised breastplate, sending him falling onto one of his deceased comrades. A feral cry came from his right and the young prospector turned to find a psycho in a horned motorcycle helmet charging towards him with a spiked bat in hand, his advance halted by the round punching through his throat.

"Now I owe you," Louie called back pulling the submachine gun's bolt back into place.

Cody only nodded and raised the Sequoia, dropping another female raider armed with a shotgun and wounding a dark-skinned man with a round to the kneecap before he was finished off by Ralphie jamming his rifle's barrel into the wailing man's mouth and pulling the trigger.

Nearby Stanzi was struggling to hold her own against the unrelenting invaders, only a matter of time before she would be forced to reload her cowboy repeater. The stress of the situation was making her fire more wildly upon enemies who were finding plenty of cover in the back and forth struggle.

She cursed to herself continually as she was forced to take cover behind a stack of food crates, repeated _'thwaks'_ reverberating as automatic rounds peppered away at her wooden cover. It would only be a matter of time before the rounds got to her. She needed to act fast.

Clutching her repeater with white knuckled fury she rose to her feet and was about to fire just as a train whistle called out and she was nearly knocked from her feet as a merchant fell against her with a railway spike sticking out of his chest, the man's eyes rolling back into his head as he bled out.

The distraction had proven costly for the ex-Regulator as the whistle sounded again and she found herself collapsing to the ground with a sharp pain in her thigh.

"Stanzi!"

Cody watched in horror as his friend fell to the ground with a railway spike driven through her leg, crying out in agony as blood gushed from the wound.

The straw had broken the camel's back and Cody found his rage amplifying to never before seen levels. He looked over to see a large bearded man with a strange looking rifle-like weapon in hand, firing a flurry of spikes upon whatever he could, a train whistle sounding with each blast.

That man was going to pay for injuring one of his closest friends.

Raising the Sequoia he fired a round that sailed harmlessly past the maniac, then a second which grazed his arm and finally a third which struck the homemade weapon and caused it to malfunction, forcing the raider to toss the weapon down and take cover.

"No way in Hell you're escaping me!" Cody said aloud as he charged in the man's direction, only to come to a screeching halt when the same raider emerged hoisting a missile launcher onto his padded shoulder.

The color drained from his face and his instincts kicked in. There was only one thing he could do and he turned to his colleagues.

"Scatter!"

There was a loud hiss as the missile was fired in his direction, followed by a deafening boom as the projectile made contact and he was flung through the air.

XXXXX

"Motherfucker got what you had coming!" Gearhead said to himself as he tossed the emptied rocket launcher to the ground, the stinging sensation in his bicep causing him to wince. His railway rifle lay nearby and he reached down for it only to find the pressure cooker that acted as the firing chamber damaged beyond repair thanks to that punk's bullet.

"Gearhead, we can't find that little shit stain anywhere!" a voice called out and he looked over to see a heavily-tattooed man with the lower portion of his face obscured by a brown wrap charging towards him.

The Road Rager leader muttered a profanity to himself. He couldn't believe it had resulted in this much trouble just to find one little pipsqueak he could have easily broken in half across his knee.

Over all the screams and gunfire he was able to hear a motorcycle approaching from behind and turned to find Bumper riding up with an auburn-haired lady tucked under his arm, the woman thrashing the entire way against his mighty grip.

"Let me go you goddamned ape!" she screamed, only to receive a hard slap for her troubles.

"Quiet little girl. We'll be having our fun later!" Bumper shouted back before turning to face his leader, "Got me quite the pretty little thing here. Looks like she could give us some good entertainment...if you know what I mean," he chuckled with a dark smile towards the woman, a strangled whimper coming from behind her sealed lips.

The cries of a child soon followed and he turned to find Orchid along with another lieutenant called Hammerhead approaching, a little girl in a pink dress draped over his shoulder kicking and screaming the entire way.

"Hey boss, I got me a little one here! You think they might like her?" the heavily-scarred man asked, a demonic glimmer in his good eye, "You know they pay more when they're fresh!"

The Rager eyed both females closely before looking to the carnage they had created. They were here to avenge the loss of a fallen brother by taking out the cowardly rat bastard who had taken his head, not take hostages. Yet there was no sight of that little weasel and if they couldn't kill him right now, then they would make their trip to Rodeo Plaza worthwhile, especially after all the men he had lost.

Besides, it wasn't like the kid could have gotten far anyway.

"Take 'em both," he ordered before turning to the other amassed raiders, "Get the others. We're getting outta here."

The lieutenants looked to each other in befuddlement before the masked man, known as Brushy, spoke up, "Boss, are you serious? We've got these bitches on the ropes! Let's burn this motherfucker to the ground!"

Gearhead may have been a brutal raider, but he wasn't an idiot. Usually when the Road Ragers came rolling in the locals were quaking in their boots, ready to offer up whatever they had or fleeing to wherever they could, providing them with a good hunt in the end. If anybody offered resistance they were viciously dealt with in a matter of seconds.

Yet this community was different. He had underestimated these locals and had lost several men as a result. It pissed him off beyond belief, yet simultaneously the more rational side was warning him that things were getting dire and he would need to do something or else every brother and sister he had ridden with over the past few years would perish.

"You're damn right I'm serious. Now fucking move!" Gearhead shouted to his subordinate with a hard clap to his shoulder.

The Road Ragers nodded in compliance and scattered in search of any available vehicle for them to make their exit, stopping along the way to inform the others that they had been ordered to pull out. It was a bitter pill to swallow for the bloodthirsty raiders, but they knew their leader's word was the law and anybody who opposed him would be dead on the spot.

Orchid stood next to him with her grenade rifle ready to fire another explosive shell, but was halted by her leader when he looked over to see a redheaded woman writhing in pain on the ground with one of his railway spikes sticking out of her thigh.

"Hold up," he shouted running over to the woman, who by now had seen him coming and reached for a gun hidden beneath her soiled duster, halted as a boot to the temple knocked her out cold. With a mighty heave he lifted the woman into his arms and made his way back over to his waiting lieutenant. "Now we can go," he said running over and loading her into the back of his Humvee.

Taking his cue Orchid fired another 40mm projectile into the devastated marketplace before chasing after her leader. "I still think we oughta' waste these fuckers while we got 'em at our mercy," she spoke climbing into the passenger seat.

"Don't worry about that. We still got some 'merchandise' we can show 'em later on," the raider leader said before switching the Humvee into reverse and backing full speed into another fleeing resident, callously flattening the man against the bloodstained tarmac and crushing his skull as they retreated.

XXXXX

It was the second time tonight Cody had been knocked from his feet by a massive blast, flung through the air like a rag doll. Thankfully his leather armor had cushioned the impact, but his ears were again left ringing and his vision left swimming as muffled pops and booms rattled overhead. When his vision finally cleared he looked up to see that same Road Rager lifting Stanzi into his arms and making a beeline for his Humvee with another woman following after him, but not before she stopped to fire a round from her grenade rifle and again nearly knocked the prospector from his feet.

"Stanzi!" the young man screamed raising his Sequoia and firing upon the fleeing Humvee until the revolver clicked empty, several raiders following after on their motorcycles and then the semi-truck which had acted as their battering ram.

"Get back here!" Cody screamed chasing after the retreating raiders, his throbbing leg muscles and oxygen deprived lungs working against him as he darted towards the demolished gates. He wanted to save his friend and make these bastards pay for all the pain and suffering they had just inflicted, ready to chase them to the ends of the earth if necessary.

Unfortunately his body had other ideas and his legs gave out on him, sending him collapsing to the dirt struggling for air. He looked ahead to see the retreating convoy disappearing over the horizon, but not before the Humvee came to a sudden halt.

_"The offer still stands. Give us Crockett or else we're coming back! You have until morning to decide!" _the Road Ragers' leader called out over his megaphone before shifting the Humvee back into drive and following after the rest of his gang.

"Stanzi...," Cody muttered weakly reaching forward and clutching a handful of dirt. He could only watch helplessly as the Humvee disappeared from sight, fresh tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. He just laid there wanting to scream to the sky in frustration, yet his throbbing lungs wouldn't permit.

"Cody!" he heard Andy calling out and he was slowly helped to his feet by him and Ghee, "Are you alright?"

"They took her," he muttered, "They fucking took her."

Both men knew who he was talking about and stared uneasily towards one another, keeping their grip tight on their friend.

"We have to go after them," Cody said trying to fight against them.

"No, Cody! We can't!" Ghee shouted only to find himself on the ground a second later with his bottom lip split open, compliments of a left hook from the enraged prospector.

"Cody!" Andy shouted in shock suddenly releasing his grip.

The young man halted in mid-stride, looking down to the fallen navigator and then down to his own fists. A shocked gasp escaped him before he muttered, "Oh god...what have I done?"

He then looked towards the direction from which the vehicles disappeared to, still able to smell the exhaust fumes in the air. The sickness returned to him and he collapsed against a support beam, halted when he felt a hand grab his shoulder.

"We'll get her back. Don't worry, we will," Andy spoke next to him.

Cody looked warily back to him before slowly nodding, "Yeah" he offered before turning his attention to Ghee, who was now being helped back to his feet by Andy and holding a hand over his bloodied lip. "I'm sorry."

The navigator stared at him long and hard before finally nodding in acknowledgment and walking away.

"Andy, we need you over here!" Ted called out, helping Seth haul the injured Gus around as Ruby followed protectively behind them.

"Right," Andy called back before returning his attention to Cody, "C'mon, they might need your help too," he said before reentering the compound.

Cody stared off into the horizon, feeling angry and helpless over watching those barbarians come into town and not only massacre a bunch of innocent people, but also kidnap one of his closest friends. He wanted so desperately to track those madmen down and put a bullet in each of their skulls so they could never terrorize another defenseless soul ever again. His heart hammered inside his chest, every beat echoing with the intensity of a little earthquake. Goddamn was he pissed off right now.

"Cody!" Andy's voice called out again and a hand clamped down hard on his shoulder, prompting the young prospector to whirl around and meet the medic's gaze with a fiery hatred. He could see this and quickly backed off with his hands raised protectively in front of him.

"Cody, look I know you're angry and you're worried about Stanzi. I am too. I want to get her back just as badly as you do and make those bastards pay, but right now we're in no position to fight. We need to relax and regain our lost energy, not to forget we're also going to need a plan of attack if we're going after them," Andy spoke trying to reason with him before cautiously taking two steps towards him, "Look man, we _will_ get her back. For now, just take a breather and help us out. There are a lot of people here who need it," he said motioning towards the demolished town, where several citizens lay dead or wounded as a lone gray-haired man in a blood spattered white t-shirt darted back and forth between them to assess their needs.

"Hey, help me out over here!" Doc Graham motioned towards Andy before reaching into his bag for some bandages to treat a bleeding man.

The prospector nodded before turning back to Cody, "C'mon. We'll start planning something out once we've helped out around here," he spoke before making his way over to help Doc Graham.

Cody took a deep breath and turned to make his way back into the compound, only to find himself halted when he spotted another familiar face lurking about making his way around whatever cover he could find.

"Speak of the Devil," he whispered forcefully striding towards the individual and following him behind a small dwelling that had mostly avoided battle damage and saw he was making his way for a basement entrance.

"Going somewhere?" the prospector called out.

The red-haired man yelped aloud and nearly jumped out of his skin, almost tripping over his own two feet as he whirled around to see who was calling out after him. He eyed Cody warily before letting out a nervous laugh.

"Oh, hey! I recognize you! Yeah, you're Eli's friend! What's up?" the skittish man gasped, his eyes darting back and forth.

"Don't get cute with me, Crockett," Cody said taking a step towards the drifter, "You know what this is all about. Where have you been all this time?"

"I've been...uh, around y'know," the man said rubbing the back of his neck while taking another baby step backwards.

"A group of raiders just came tearing through here looking for you and look at what happened," Cody said motioning to their devastated surroundings, "All because of you!"

Crockett was at a loss for words and was trembling uncontrollably as the prospector narrowed his hazel eyes at him, a hateful glare showering him with daggers.

"You're so badass, huh? You killed a top-ranking raider in a fight, didn't you?" Cody asked, his tone growing more menacing, "I think you're full of shit!"

"No!" Crockett blurted out before looking into Cody's eyes and sighing in defeat, "Alright, I didn't kill him in battle."

The drifter looked to the ground in shame as he explained himself, "I was out and about looking for anything I could scrounge up for some caps and I found him passed out in a trailer outside the Shooting Star Drive-In. I recognized his face from a wanted poster and needed the caps, so I took his machete and...well you know..."

"You fucking coward," Cody hissed, struggling to hold back from knocking this man flat onto his back and pounding his face into hamburger meat. "People are fucking dead because of you and one of my best friends has been kidnapped. You better give me a damned good reason I don't fucking kill you myself!"

Crockett's skin was white as a sheet and he was quivering uncontrollably, "H-Hey! Now hey, l-look here...you...you don't wanna do anything st-st-stupid!" he stammered as he found himself backing into someone, whirling around to be met by Ralphie and Louie.

Cody could sense a presence coming up from behind him and turned to find Delton standing there, his lone eye focused on the cowardly man.

"And you haven't done something stupid already?" Ralphie growled balling his hands into fists, "Two of my best friends are dead because of you. If you ask me, we oughta' be handing you over to those Road Ragers on a silver platter!"

"And I agree with him," Louie added.

"There's been enough bloodshed for one night," Ted Sanderson spoke walking over to the group, "Believe me. He'd just be a wasted bullet. He's not worth your time."

"But Ted, do you have any idea what this son of a bitch has just caused?" Ralphie asked incredulously, "We'd be doing a lot of people here a favor if we just put this bastard out of his misery right here, right now!"

"But nothing," Ted shouted back to his subordinate before turning his attention to the whimpering Crockett, "Son, if I were you I'd make myself scarce."

The young man nodded curtly and ran towards the gates before he suddenly turned around, "Wait, I forgot my weapons! My caps too – Hey, I didn't even get paid for this!"

In one deft motion Delton drew his assault rifle and fired a burst into the pavement before Crockett's feet, sending the drifter fleeing squawking into the night.

"Good fucking riddance," Ralphie spat bitterly after the drifter disappeared from sight, wishing desperately he could put a bullet in that son of a bitch. Because of him Walt and Dicky were both dead, not to forget all the people who had died tonight.

"Leave him. He is the least of our problems now. He'll get what he's got coming to him," Ted said looking back to the people rushing back and forth trying to help their fellow citizens, "We've got bigger fish to fry right now. Once we're done, we'll track those fuckers down and put every single one of them in the ground."

XXXXX

Cody sat quietly in the motel lobby with a now lukewarm bottle of Nuka-Cola at his side, staring intently at the meeting transpiring before him.

Ted and Ghee both stood at the front desk with a map laid out before them and Gus, Seth and Ruby all gathered around. The quintet spoke quietly amongst themselves drawing up a plan of attack against the Shooting Star Drive-In that Crockett had mentioned. It was likely they were still holed up there and they wanted to strike when they would be busy licking their wounds, having inflicted a number of casualties against the bloodthirsty raider gang.

Taking his eyes away from the quartet he looked over to Ralphie sitting next to him on the worn couch. Normally making wisecracks left and right, now he remained deathly silent staring quietly at the wall in front of him. The hunting rifle rested on his lap, a sight which made his friend uneasy fearing he would snap. In addition to him Walt and Dicky were two of his best friends in the world, 'The Four Horsemen' as their companions jokingly called them.

Now two of them were gone and his levels of rage boiled to never before seen levels.

Aside from them Louie was reclining against a Nuka-Cola vending machine with his arms crossed and Delton was seated in a tattered green leather armchair with another cigarette tucked between his lips. Andy was still over helping Doc Graham at Vannah's Diner, which had been converted into a makeshift infirmary due to its available space and all the injured townspeople present.

"-you don't wanna go down that dry riverbed. It's too boxed in. It'd be like shooting fish in a barrel for them," Ruby spoke.

"Wait a minute, is that a ridge there? Maybe we could position one of our snipers there," he heard Ghee mention.

"That could work. You got the coordinates in your Pip-Boy?" Ted asked the navigator.

"Working on that now," the Asian man replied typing a few commands into his wrist-mounted device, which provided a map of the area wherever they went. "Got it."

"Then it's settled," Ted said turning his attention to the others, "Gus here says there might be some merchants around willing to help you out. You should talk to him," he said motioning towards the motel owner, the man's forearm now bandaged.

"You boys might wanna go talk to Doc Graham. I'm sure he'd be happy to provide some medical supplies. You might also wanna talk to Jonas. He might have some leftover body armor and ammo. You're definitely gonna need it. Also, Stan's good at tinkering, he might have some 'extra toys' on hand for you to use," Gus said leaning towards them for the last part.

Ruby then stepped forth, "You're gonna need lots of help going against those freaks. I'd help you myself, but we're gonna need people to stand guard while you're gone."

"Any idea who can help us out?" Louie asked.

"Go talk to Flo the stylist. She used to be a mercenary before she set up shop here. Bighorn Bob knows his way around a gun also. I'll send Virgil with you too," the law woman nodded.

"I'll go talk to Jonas," Louie volunteered.

"I can talk to Doc Graham," Cody said rising to his feet.

Ralphie was last to rise and snorted before speaking, "Fine, I'll go talk to Stan."

"Meet back here in half an hour. We've got a lot to prepare for," Ted said tipping his hat to the three young men while Delton just eyed them with his usual stolidity.

It had been four hours since the attack on Rodeo Plaza and only now had all the fires been put out. Given the needs of the wounded there had been no time to remove the bodies of the deceased and thus they had to be covered with blankets, tarps and any other items that could be found to prevent the survivors from having to look at their mutilated corpses. With the sorry state they were in it would be several hours more before they would be able to get around to burying them, so far now they would do what they could to give them some form of dignity as they waited for their final resting place.

Cody made his way over to Vannah's Diner, only to find himself nearly bowled over as two locals carried out a body covered by a bloodied white sheet on a makeshift stretcher, a clear sign of the aftermath to follow.

Stepping inside he found nearly all of the tables being used as hospital beds, wounded locals lying in agony from a multitude of injuries. Aside from Andy, Doc Graham only had two women on hand to assist him and the four first responders darted back and forth between their patients at a frenetic pace doing whatever they could to meet the needs of the injured. Cody's objective was to talk to the doctor and he made his way over, where the man was leaning over an unconscious fellow whose leg had been severed just beneath the knee cap.

"Doc Graham!" Cody called out, only to step back as the older man abruptly whirled around, his once white smock now mostly colored crimson along with the hygienic mask worn over his mouth. Every inch of his exposed skin was soaked in a layer of sweat and his blue eyes gave off a hardened, yet tired stare that left the young prospector steeling himself.

"Yes, what is it? Can't you see that I'm busy right now?" the doctor snapped, only to stop himself when he realized how harshly his tone had come off, "I'm terribly sorry, but these people need me and I can't afford much time to stand around chitchatting, not to mention my own daughter has also been taken by those brutes. If you need something then please make it quick."

"We're embarking on a mission to get your daughter and the others back and Gus said that you might be able to spare a few extra supplies," Cody answered.

The doctor nodded and took off the stethoscope hanging haphazardly around his neck, "Right this way," he said leading him over to a small portable refrigerator and opening the door to reveal a stack of blood packs and then reaching over to grab two travel bags.

"You should find a few stimpaks and Med-X syringes inside, along with some medical equipment. Please, just do what you can to get my daughter back to me. I'd go myself, but my bum leg won't let me. Just please, do what you can," the older man pleaded.

"We will do what we can and thanks," Cody nodded about to make his exit when he looked over to see Eli Coleman standing protectively near his mother, the restaurateur's forearm heavily bandaged. He nodded to the man and made his way over.

"Oh god, I can't believe those bastards took Lucy. God dammit I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to her," the young man spoke looking away in shame, "I don't know what to do," he continued until he was stopped by Cody placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, we'll do what we can to get her and the others back. I promise," Cody replied.

"Thank you," Eli replied still looking down in shame, "I just wish there was something I could do to help you guys out. I feel so worthless standing here doing nothing."

Cody looked past him to his seated mother, who appeared alright aside from the injury to her arm, yet held herself closely, visibly distraught.

"Stay here and take care of your mother. That's what you can do for me," the prospector answered.

Eli nodded and Cody turned to meet up with Andy, who was now in the middle of washing his hands after tossing away a bloodied pair of latex gloves.

"Ted ready to roll out?" he asked drying off his hands.

"Yeah, he is. We should be going," Cody nodded and the two of them made their way for the tent's entrance, only to be halted by a middle-aged woman wearing a filthy green shirt and rag-like skirt with a matching head wrap covering her dark hair. It was Dora, the owner of the town co-op.

"I heard you and your boys were heading out to go after those horrible raiders. You might be gone for a while, so I brought you this sack full of food," she spoke handing him the burlap sack hung over her shoulder.

"Thank you very much. We greatly appreciate your gesture and will do your town proud," Cody nodded politely to the woman before making his way back for the motel.

Cody and Andy made their way over where Ted, Ghee, Delton, Louie, and Ralphie all waited for them as planned with their equipment gathered. They were soon joined by Ruby and from the distance he could see Flo, Bighorn Bob and Virgil all approaching with their own gear ready.

"Alright, is this everybody?" Ruby asked and she was met by nods of confirmation from those present and turned things over to Ted.

"Based upon what a certain shit stain told us, we have reason to believe those Road Ragers are still camped out at the Shooting Star Drive-In northwest of here. We've got a plan in motion. Now all we do is go in, blast whoever gets in our way, grab the girls and get the hell outta there. Any questions?" the grizzled old prospector asked.

He was met with silence.

"Then let's move out."

XXXXX

Author's Note: And so ends the second installment of "Crossing Destinies," which took me longer than I expected.

The Regulator Sequoia is inspired by the Ranger Sequoia which Chief Hanlon and the NCR Veteran Rangers carried in "New Vegas," the only thing original being the first part of its name. Because the Regulators in "Fallout 3" have a Wild Western-inspired motif behind them I wanted to give them a similar-minded sidearm and thus I thought it would be a cool idea and have given it to Cody as his sidearm, which I'll probably elaborate more upon later.

Well I think that's all I have to say for now so until then read and review! This is Metal Harbinger saying SPREAD THE SICKNESS, ONE MIND AT A TIME! \m/

Oh, and to all my fellow Americans on here, hope you all had a happy 4th, or as I call it "Legally Blow Shit Up Day!"


	4. Like Sheep to the Slaughter

Chapter 3: Like Sheep to the Slaughter

Under the cover of darkness the small army moved on a mission of recovery.

Altogether there were ten of them, armed to the teeth and wearing whatever armor was available to them. They knew of the threat they were going up against and wanted to make sure they had everything down to the last detail.

There was going to be serious payback for killing four of their men, capturing one of their own, and attempting to level an entire settlement.

Heeding the advice of Gus and Ruby they moved at a distance from the broken concrete highway to their left, hoping it would it provide them some needed cover and keep them safer from their vehicle-owning adversaries.

They had been traveling for well over half an hour and their feet were sore from all the walking, but they knew every second they wasted would be one more second for those raiders to do God knows what to their hostages. When they had that kind of motivation there was no stopping them as long as they had an ounce of breath in their lungs.

Their nonstop movement continued until they came to the rusted hull of a crashed Vertibird at the base of a small hill and it was then Ted Sanderson raised a hand motioning for them to halt.

"Cody, scout the area ahead of us for any threats," he ordered.

The young man nodded and carefully climbed the hill, coming to a stop behind the splintered remnants of a rusted out Highwayman that had a skeletonized arm sticking through the shattered driver's side window. He reached for the customized varmint rifle strapped to his back and made sure everything was in fine working order before checking his extended magazine to make sure it was fully loaded.

The rifle called _'Annie'_ had seen its share of wear and tear throughout countless journeys and had served him as reliably and faithfully as any companion, human or other, over the last thirteen years. It was a gift presented to him by his adoptive father, who named it after a woman known to have been a great sharpshooter back in the days of the Wild West. It was his most prized possession and he intended to hang onto it for a long, long time, having added a night vision scope, silencer and extended mag capacity to triple its effectiveness in battle.

Readying himself for any dangers he took a deep breath before closing one eye and peering through the scope. The land was bathed in a mixture of light green hues and almost black shades of darker green and amongst the long dead trees he could make out a small pond of radioactive waste with a swarm of bloatflies circling overhead, yet they were far enough away to avoid being any kind of nuisance so long as they kept their distance.

Not much farther away was an overturned dump truck that would have offered more cover and slinging the rifle over his shoulder Cody carefully made his way around the ruined Corvega and darted for cover behind the rusted construction vehicle. He again withdrew Annie and took a knee, peering through the scope for any other threats.

He focused on the broken highway and took notice of some masses littering the surface, but as he zoomed in he quickly found out what they were.

Several bodies littered the tarmac, in addition to a few dead pack Brahmin. He couldn't tell from this distance what had caused their deaths, but he had an idea and it wasn't pretty. Not much farther away was a ramshackle old farmhouse and behind it the pillars of what had once been its barn and the now overturned silo. Such a sight was always something you could never be too sure of in the wasteland, not knowing whether you would be greeted by a lonesome old lady to offer you a warm bowl of squirrel stew, or a band of raiders looking to take you for everything you've got. In most cases it was the latter.

"Cody, you see anything up there?" he heard Zeb calling out.

"So far it's clear, but it ain't pretty," the marksman replied slinging the rifle over his shoulder.

"Alright, let's move," Ted ordered and within seconds he was making his way up the hill with his service rifle at the ready followed by the rest of their motley crew.

The group walked for another two miles unmolested, passing carefully beneath the crumbling remnants of a freeway overpass with the crumpled husks of numerous automobiles scattered about like a child's toys. Everything had been quiet along the way, aside from the blowing wind in the distance and it was that calm that left Cody Shivers on edge.

Normally Ralphie would have been making wisecracks left and right, but without Walt there to reciprocate his jokes he was deathly silent, looking nowhere but forward as he moved about with his hunting rifle at the ready. He then looked ahead where Ghee glanced at his Pip-Boy 3000, its built-in light providing the only source of illumination for the small band. Normally the music aficionado would have been shifting through the channels for any kind of pre-War music he could get, that is when he wasn't involved in some kind of intellectual sparring match with Ein. But now he was focused solely on the task at hand, as was Andy, who would normally have been spouting off some tale from his time out west before he had joined up with Ted's group, while Dicky would have been busy trying to flirt with Stanzi and Louie would have rambled on absentmindedly about his fascination with Vault-Tec products, from their bobblehead dolls to their snow globes to their toasters.

It was just too damn silent and business-like for his liking.

"Up ahead," Ghee suddenly spoke jabbing his finger to the northwest, snapping everyone out of their fierce concentration.

Before them was a bullet-riddled sign letting them know the Shooting Star Drive-In was at the next exit. It was then Ted raised his hand motioning for the group to halt.

"Louie, stock everybody up. Double the usual," he ordered.

"You got it," Louie replied unslinging the heavy duffel bag hanging over his shoulder and unzipping it. He reached in and began distributing ammo for his comrade's primary weapons and sidearms and by the end of the handout his bag was nearly emptied.

"That's everything Boss, nothing that goes boom though," he said zipping the bag up.

"Just gonna have to make due with what we've got," the leader replied taking another long hard look at his companions before stopping on Cody and giving his adoptive son an assuring nod. "Until then, keep your heads low," he said keeping his rifle at the ready.

The group nodded and began walking in twos, Cody taking a spot next to the barber Flo, her short, stylish purple-highlighted hair making her stand out the most in the group. Gone were her casual clothes and in its place was a suit of black combat armor with an insignia on its breastplate that had been mostly scratched away and in her hands was an AER9 laser rifle along with a line of pulse grenades slung across her chest. Through conversing with her he would learn that at one point she had been a mercenary out east, but had refused to go into specifics regarding the nature of her former work.

Bighorn Bob walked ahead of them, for some reason finding it necessary to still keep his guitar strapped to his back even as they were about to head into battle, and Vergil moved about next to him with an assault carbine ready. Even if they were capable of handling themselves, he still felt guilty that a couple of locals were being allowed to tag along for this dangerous mission and worried their deaths would be on his conscience if something were to happen to them. Nevertheless, it was Ted's call to allow them to tag along, the residents of Rodeo Plaza wanting some measure of revenge against the savage raiders who had left the majority of their town a smoldering ruin.

"Up ahead," Ghee spoke again gesturing forth with his Pip-Boy's light providing a beacon in the darkness, "The drive-in should be just over that hill."

"Get ready people," Ted ordered.

It was only a matter of time before the group was taking its position on the hill overlooking the once popular drive-in, most of their members kneeling or falling to prone positions while Ted remained standing, taking in the overpowering stench all too familiar to him.

Burnt human flesh.

He felt his gut becoming heavy and wanted to clamp a hand over his nose in an effort to block out the smell, yet he kept his cool and turned towards Cody, "Front and center, kid. We need your eagle eye."

The young prospector nodded and crawled further to the ledge steadying his rifle and zooming in on the drive-in for another distressing sight.

He focused on the large sign that once welcomed visitors, several decaying corpses hanging from its catwalk and being pecked away at by a murder of crows. It made his stomach twist into knots and once again he found himself silently praying for Stanzi's safety. His muscles tensed even further as he focused on the exterior fence and noticed more lifeless masses hanging from the wooden facade. It left him wanting to charge down the hill and find out the truth. He _had_ to know.

Once the initial wave of revulsion subsided he focused on the drive-in's interior, finding a small camp comprised mostly of tattered tents and a few small structures hastily erected from plywood and sheet metal in addition to more broken down metal heaps that had once been functioning automobiles. He could see a small pillar of smoke coming from within, yet it looked as if the fire was dying.

Furthermore, he saw no signs of movement.

He expected to see a bunch of drunken raiders engaged in debauchery around a roaring campfire as their victims writhed in agony at their feet, yet he saw nothing. It left him wondering if the Road Ragers were still lurking about.

"See anything, kid?" Ted asked, snapping him out of his train of thought.

"Have a look for yourself," Cody said hesitantly handing the varmint rifle to his adoptive father.

A soft sigh escaped the older man's lips before he murmured "My god in Heaven" and handed the rifle back to him. He then turned to face the others, "We have to find out what's going on down there. It ain't gonna be pretty, but we have to know."

He took another deep breath before continuing, "We'll split up, cover us more ground at once. Delton, you take Cody, Ralphie and Flo with you. Approach from the left hand side."

The one-eyed man nodded before staring intensely towards his three companions.

"Louie, take Bob and Vergil and the three of you approach from the right."

"On it," Louie said rising to his feet along with the two locals.

"Ghee and Andy, both of you with me. We're gonna take the front entrance," Ted spoke and right away Ghee's skin paled.

"Are you sure about that?" the navigator muttered.

"We have no other choice. There's only ten of us and God knows how many of them. We have to make due with what we've got," he replied before looking to the others, "Any other questions?"

He was met with a few shaking heads.

"Then let's move out," he said readying his rifle and descending the hill.

The young prospector drew his Sequoia as the groups went their separate ways and they descended the hill with Delton taking point.

As usual the enigmatic loner was like a rock, showing no signs of fear nor remorse nor human emotion. They were about to enter a hellhole and be pitted against psychopathic adversaries, yet he marched forth with his guns at the ready. He looked over to Ralphie and saw the way he tightly clutched his hunting rifle, the intense look in his dark eyes replaced by a subtle anxiety and then over to his right, where he could hear Flo's heavy breathing, coming even from a battle hardened veteran.

Yet Delton continued forth walking past the skeletal remains of another unfortunate soul, the gaping bullet hole revealing the victim's fate. Even after watching numerous people die around him throughout the years, he still found reason to shudder at such a sight, yet the one-eyed drifter strode forth in cool indifference.

The quartet advanced over the bare landscape until they were approaching the frayed wooden fence and it was then he got a better look at the Ragers' 'decorations,' a part of him wanting to regret his attempted heroics.

Various figures were suspended, all of them once living, breathing people murdered through assorted means. Most of the flesh had been torn away, some of their genders indiscernible due to all the damage done, flies and other vermin still feeding on what strips of wrinkled tissue remained. Knives and arrows protruded from the sinewy husks, the nameless victims having been used for target practice.

"What the fucking hell?" Ralphie murmured, the marksman finding his stomach twisting into knots as he fought back the bile building up behind his lips.

Cody ignored his friend's horrified inquiry and remained focused on Delton's back as the one-eyed man rounded the fence, not wanting to gaze upon the gruesome display any longer than he had to.

The trio followed their appointed leader into an empty drainage ditch that led them to a smaller campsite and an extinguished campfire surrounded by emptied Nuka-Cola and whiskey bottles, tin cans and emptied food boxes, in addition to various spent casings of Jet and Psycho, a few emptied bottles of Buffout and used stimpaks. A few ammunition and first aid boxes were also present, yet were found to be empty. A 9mm submachine gun and a sawed-off shotgun rested near a ratty old mattress, yet both guns were found in a state of disrepair and would have been worthless to them.

"Nothing of interest here," Flo said looking towards a gap in the fence behind the screen, "We'd better see what we can find in there."

Before they could move all attention would suddenly be drawn to Delton when his mechanical hand shot into the air.

"What is it?" Ralphie blurted out, only to be silenced by a sharp glare from the antisocial scavenger.

Delton remained quiet and began sniffing at the air around him before cautiously reaching for his .45 Auto.

"You smell that?" he hissed, his timbre gravelly following years of his self-destructive habit.

Everybody stared in a mixture of awe and horror. It was always a small spectacle whenever the enigmatic loner spoke. Usually when he spoke it meant something bad was about to happen.

It left a bad feeling forming in the gut of Cody Shivers. He clenched his rifle tightly as his blood chilled, feeling the tremors in his hands and wrists. His teeth chattered beneath his closed lips, leaving him wishing he had a toothpick on hand like he always used whenever this happened, his pearly whites soon to be ground into nothing.

_"Damn you Delton and your 'sixth sense,'" _he thought to himself as the world seemed to slow down around him, watching the mystery man's every movement as he remained focused upon something no one else could see.

"Delton, what the fucking hell are we waiting for?" Ralphie impatiently blurted out.

Before the loner could let out an impatient snarl he noticed a sudden blur from the corner of his eye and it was sneaking up on Ralphie. Without warning he raised the silenced handgun and squeezed the trigger, his round sailing past the young man's head.

There was the sound of bone ripping through flesh, a splatter of blood onto the marksman's face, and then a heavy thud as something struck the dirt behind him.

Ralphie let out a strangled shriek of terror and whirled around looking down, gasping in horror as a man's body suddenly materialized on the ground behind him, a hole torn through a portion of his chest not covered by his patchwork metal armor. A pipe wrench was clutched in his right hand and attached to the wrist above that was a small device with some kind of strange reflector on it.

"A raider...with a stealth boy?" Flo asked staring down at the fresh corpse perplexed, "But how?"

Delton eyed the dead man thoroughly while scratching at the stubble on his chin, "Beats the living hell outta me."

Cody knew what a stealth boy was, but he had never seen one up close. It was a device which attached to the user's wrist and generated a modulating field that transmits reflecting light from one side of an object to the other. It could make a person harder to notice, yet not completely invisible. They were typically used by military special operations forces and a few mercenary units here and there, yet they had been largely outlawed for civilian use in areas where there were functioning governments present. Then again, if you had _a lot_ of caps and the right connections they could still be purchased from a hard up merchant.

How some piss ant raider had managed to get his hands on one was a question that left them scratching their heads, but it left Delton reaching for his rifle and bolting towards the small opening. Drawing his power fist back and punching through the fence, creating a larger opening that would allow all of them to enter effortlessly.

And it was then a woman's blood curdling shriek called out.

Cody exchanged a curt glance with Ralphie and Flo before charging after the one-eyed man.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"My god in Heaven," Ted muttered as he stood over a ratty old mattress with a headless corpse chained to it.

The barbarity of raider gangs never failed to shock the grizzled old man, even after years of skirmishes with them and cleaning up their leftovers.

"Damn these sons of bitches," he said to himself as he was treated to the sight of an abandoned baby carriage not much farther away, covered from top to bottom in blood. A discarded teddy bear rested on the cracked blacktop next to it, his heart left aching. What became of the unfortunate soul he had no idea, nor did he likely want to know.

He felt a presence coming from behind and turned to find Andy approaching.

"I don't see Stanzi or the others anywhere," he said shaking his head, "I don't see any Road Ragers around here either."

Ted shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, "I don't know what else to tell you. This trip has been nothing but a waste. We might as well get the others and haul ass outta here. I don't see much reason in sticking around here any longer," he said looking towards a barbecue grill with some strands of human intestines laying out looking like they were being prepared for consumption.

He could hear another set of boots pounding the pavement and turned to find Ghee approaching. The navigator looked towards both men and shook his head, "I don't see the ladies or anybody else around here. You think the Road Ragers could have been expecting us to follow and decided to pack everything up and run?"

"With everything they've got, I highly doubt it," Ted replied, "They nearly leveled Rodeo Plaza to the ground. If they had time to regroup they could probably have given us one hell of a fight. Why else would they run from us?"

"Not all raider gangs are as stupid as some make them out to be. They probably knew there would be people out to get them following an attack like that. We should still be on high alert," Andy offered.

A woman's blood curdling shriek suddenly called out and all three men nearly jumped out of their skins.

"That came from over there!" Ted shouted to his two subordinates and rushed towards the source, passing a campfire where half a Brahmin was in the middle of being cooked over a freshly extinguished fire and rushing into a small tent with, forcibly tearing away the soiled bed sheet used as a door.

He was met by another ghastly sight as he stumbled across an old bathtub with a fresh corpse resting in it, the woman's chest sliced open and her internal organs removed, in addition to various severed limbs scattered haphazardly on the ground. Lying amongst the remains was a tape recorder playing its cassette on a loop, the source of the woman's screams.

Ted stomped on the recorder in frustration, silencing the canned screams. It was then he heard a soft moan coming from the shadows and he pulled out his lighter. Flicking it on he found himself standing over an old bed where a barely conscious woman had been restrained, stripped down to her underwear and displaying signs of physical and sexual abuse.

"Damn those bastards," he muttered to himself as he could hear both Andy and Ghee approaching.

"Ted, what is-" Andy called out, halted by the gruesome sight in the bathtub and then the half naked woman lying before them.

"Andy, help me with her," Ted said pulling out his switchblade and reaching down to cut the woman's ropes.

Ghee stood quietly behind them and switched on his Pip-Boy's light to help the two men work in the near total darkness, feeling his heart racing as he tried to look away from the mutilated woman left in the bathtub. Aside from saving a woman, this trip had proven to be a fruitless endeavor with no signs of Stanzi or the other hostages. For all he knew the Road Ragers had decided to pack up everything and leave.

His eyebrows perked up when he noticed a sudden movement behind Andy and on instinct squeezed the combat shotgun's trigger, filling the enclosed space with a thunderous boom that left both men jumping and temporarily deafened.

"Ghee, what gives?" Andy shouted, only to turn around and find a grungy man's body materializing from out of thin air on the ground behind him, his back torn apart by a salvo of buckshot.

Their eyes were drawn to the stealth boy attached to the dead man's wrist and it would be Andy who broke the silence, "Where the hell did they get one of those from?"

Ted ignored the medic's inquiry as he used his boot to roll the dead raider onto his back and it was then he found a walkie-talkie clipped to the leather strap crisscrossing the man's chest. There was a sudden hiss and a gravelly voice called out.

_"Hey Snoops, you there? Everything alright? We heard the shots," _the voice called out followed by a long pause, _"Oh shit, Gearhead must've been right. They sent people from that shithole. Time to move out boys!"_

Ted, Andy and Ghee all stared quietly to each other before muttering "Oh shit" in unison.

"Ted, are you alright in there?" Louie Ramos called out, "We heard the shot!"

With a curt glance to his companions Ted made a hasty exit from the tent and ran out into the open, "Louie, get out of here quick! More trouble's on the way!"

And then the gunshot rang out.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Cody entered the drive-in just in time to see Jensen Ghee's head exploding into a crimson mist, causing him to grab Ralphie and pull him for cover behind a hastily constructed sheet metal hut while Flo ducked for cover behind a rusted out station wagon.

Delton meanwhile had withdrawn his Chinese assault rifle and ducked for cover behind an overturned bathtub and then moved in a zigzagging pattern that took him behind some large tires, then a stack of wooden crates and lastly behind a rusted out pickup truck before he took aim and fired, a malformed blur falling from atop the building that had once housed the concession stands and hitting the pavement with a dull thud, a loud fizzle sounding as the blur took the form of a human being, much like that first cloaked raider he had killed.

"Looks like they're here after all," Flo called out from behind her cover, anxiously waving her laser rifle in all directions in front of her as she kept her back hugged to the station wagon.

Cody did not respond, instead raising his Sequoia and firing into a blur he noticed approaching the mercenary-turned-barber, who would then raise her rifle and reduce the perpetrator to a pile of ash.

"Fuck this stealth shit," they heard a voice call out and a raider literally appeared from out of thin air before their very eyes after powering down his stealth boy. He then raised his 10mm pistol and took aim on Cody, but Ralphie raised his hunting rifle and dropped the man with a blast to the sternum and sent him sagging to the ground.

"Road Ragers, roll out!" another raider called out as a large man wearing a fireman's helmet atop a gas mask charged them with a chainsaw in hand, followed by four additional thugs firing upon them with their handguns and shotguns, sending the trio scattering.

Cody nearly fell to the cracked concrete as he stumbled over a cinder block while bolting for any new cover as fast as he could. Things were quickly descending into another full scale battle as more gunshots rang out, followed by an earth shattering boom as another grenade was detonated somewhere in the distance. He swore he could hear someone on his tale, yet he wanted to conserve ammo and wouldn't squeeze the trigger unless he was sure there was someone there to shoot.

"Batter up!" a voice called from in front of him and he turned to be met by another Road Rager wearing a stitched together burlap sack with three tufts of hair sticking out, a spiked baseball bat in hand.

Cody barely registered the bat swinging his way and ducked to his knees, skidding along the pavement as he could feel the wind of the bat brushing against his face. He pushed himself back to his feet, only to have the end of the bat jammed into his gut. His armor had been there to absorb the brunt of the blow, but it had knocked the wind out of him and forced him to drop his Sequoia. Even through the pain he remained focused on the spiked bat waiting to impale him and he ducked at another swing before leaping backwards to avoid one directed at his kneecaps. He needed to think fast.

And then he remembered the trusty pickaxe strapped to his back and he pulled it out, ducking another swing from the spiked bat and then burying the sharpened point into the raider's bare side. The man let out an anguished squeal before Cody pulled it out, along with part of the man's small intestine and let him fall to the ground.

A loud thump came from behind and Cody whirled around to find another raider in a pre-War motorcycle helmet lying against a lamppost at an awkward angle.

"Gotta watch your back, kid," Delton rasped before flicking away some drops of blood from his mechanical fist before pulling out a serrated knife and chucking it towards a scantily-clad woman in a cowboy hat, the blade embedding itself in her throat. There was no time to thank him as the one-eyed man was again raising his rifle to exchange gunfire with two more raiders.

A red laser beam knifed through the air not too far from him and Cody was met by Flo rushing up alongside him and soon Ralphie.

"What are we going to do? This has been nothing but an ambush!" Ralphie shouted over the rattle of automatic fire.

"Looks like we have no choice but to stay and fight. If we try running they're just gonna chase after us," Flo shot back before again squeezing the laser rifle's trigger.

She was right, but at the same time he still found himself worrying about Stanzi and the other women taken from Rodeo Plaza. If they weren't here then where were they? Furthermore, having seen all those corpses strung up like decorations and horrifically brutalized he had to wonder were they still alive?

His thoughts were interrupted as he could hear a distinctive buzzing sound coming from the distance, soon multiplied and drowning out all the screams and gunfire and then he saw it as a dirt bike came flying over the fence, followed by another and another until a whole new threat had boxed them in.

"You're fucking shitting me!" Ralphie hollered.

"Last one to score a kill buys dinner!" whooped the raider at the front, clad in an armor-plated motorcycle helmet with two horns sticking out from the sides, powering up the Ripper held in his left hand.

"Looks like we have no other choice," Flo piped up loading a fresh microfusion cell into her laser rifle.

The lead biker started making noises with his mouth that mimicked a blaring trumpet before shouting "Charge!"

In spite of being dangerously low on ammo and heavily fatigued from their earlier battle, the prospectors were forced to make a stand and opened fire upon the raiders, one of them falling right away thanks to a well placed shot from Bighorn Bob, while the leader somehow managed to avoid all the bullets flying around him and made contact with the earth in a cloud of dust and charged forth towards the troubadour with reckless intent.

Cody raised the Sequoia and fired off his remaining rounds on another biker, eventually catching the man in the arm and sending him clattering to the ground. Given the precious few seconds he had he quickly ducked for cover behind the remnants of another long abandoned pickup truck and reached into his pouch for another speed loader, shoving it in and slamming the chamber back into place before cocking the hammer and rejoining the fight.

Ted Sanderson had found himself in a very tight spot. He and his men were severely outnumbered and outgunned by a band of rampaging raiders who saw them as nothing more than fresh meat. He hated to do this given that they were dealing with some sadistic bastards who _needed_ to be stopped, but he knew they had bitten off more than they could chew. He needed to get his men out of there so they could live to fight another day.

"C'mon, we've gotta get outta here. We ain't got enough to fight all these freaks!" he shouted grabbing Andy by the shoulder and shoving him towards the opening in the fence compliments of Delton's power fist.

Cody and his companions heard the old man's call and they started running after Andy and Louie, followed closely by Vergil and Bob, the two men running backwards as they fired away at the approaching bikers and foot soldiers, who were quick to return fire and cut the folk singer down in a flurry of screaming metal. There was no time to stay and mourn his dead, the roaring engines and bloodthirsty whoops hammering that point closer to home, along with the bullet that whizzed past dangerously close to the young prospector's ear.

One by one the prospectors made their way through the opening in the fence and were bolting down a narrow trail that led down another steep incline. It was a desperate race for survival and they bobbed and weaved their way around the narrow passageway until they were descending further into a gorge populated by more skeletons, thinking they had created some distance between themselves and the Road Ragers until the revving of engines again filled their ears.

Cody aimed the Sequoia over his shoulder and fired a few rounds towards the oncoming bikers, only for his bullets to ping off their metal plating. It left him muttering a string of curses to himself and he was forced to focus on the trail ahead of him, nearly deafened by the multitude of roaring engines, the heat nipping at his heels, the dust kicking into the air threatening to blind and choke him simultaneously.

A metallic snap rang out followed by Vergil's screams and he looked back to find the young guard on the ground writhing in agony, a bear trap clamped down on his ankle. A second later he disappeared beneath the stampede of dirt bikes and his screams were forever silenced.

Cody swallowed hard at the sight. Three additional people had died tonight, killed by merciless raiders who would string them up and leave the crows to feast on their remains, never able to enjoy a proper burial, another rare luxury when you lived in the wastes.

The mad cackling interrupted his thoughts and he turned to find the horned biker closing in on him with his Ripper at the ready.

"Dinner time!" the madman hollered.

Cody raised his Sequoia and fired off his remaining rounds at the oncoming biker, only for his bullets to ping off of its metal plating until his gun clicked empty. All he could do was run, following wherever the gorge would take him. There was no time to return fire, just run.

No matter what he did his efforts were proving to be in vain, the buzz of the Ripper growing louder.

_"Shit! Shit! Shit! Not like this! Not like this!" _his mind screamed as he fished through his pockets for any remaining bullets, knowing Annie couldn't help him in the enclosed quarters. His efforts were halted as a dirt bike sped past kicking dirt into his eyes and blinding him.

"Cody, look out!" he heard Louie calling out and a second later he was knocked to the ground, landing hard on his chest with an 'oomph' that knocked the air out of his lungs, yet thankfully his leather breastplate had again cushioned the impact.

Again finding his world rocked, it took some time for the prospector's vision to readjust and when he did he found himself staring into Louie Ramos' dark eyes.

"Louie, we have to -," he was in the middle of saying when he noticed the quartermaster's mouth hanging open and his eyes wandered down to find the man's head separated from the rest of his body.

"Louie," he gasped. The man had sacrificed himself to save him.

Before he could speak any further he was being pulled back to his feet and had Delton shouting in his face.

"No time to grieve, greenhorn!" the one-eyed man shouted before shooting his power fist out and delivering a neck snapping uppercut that knocked one of the bikers from his ride, the man's body spinning in midair before he connected with the earth at an awkward angle and his unmanned dirt bike was sent crashing into a large rock formation, splintering it into two separate halves.

Bullets pelted away at the earthen wall around the two men and they were both barely able to duck the dirt bikes flying around them, a small miracle they avoided being trampled. Ralphie was on hand to cover them and fired a round through the back of a mad biker and sending him falling to the earth, followed by Andy raising his service rifle and taking down another raider.

"Fucking move!" Delton screamed when he noticed another Rager in the process of removing a fragmentation grenade from the line slung across his bare chest. He had drawn his arm backward to toss his explosive after pulling the pin, yet the loner raised his rifle in time to fire a barrage that sent the would-be bomber falling backwards. The explosive leaped from his hand as he hit the dirt and rolled a few inches away, the following explosion swallowing him up along with another raider.

"Move it people! Move damn it!" Ted screamed as he fired upon another assailant.

The survivors tried to do as they were told with both Delton and Andy covering the rear flank when the bikers turned around to chase after them. Flo soon joined them and managed to incinerate another Rager with a lucky shot, yet no matter how many raiders they killed, the more still came at them.

"You can't run! You can't hide! You can't win!" the lead biker cackled maniacally, only to fall a second later as one of Andy's bullets found its way through his opened visor, yet there were still plenty more to continue the chase.

The fatigue was taking its toll on the young prospector, yet he could see the end of the gorge and Ralphie running past him.

"Cody, c'mon!" he called over his shoulder, only to fall as another gunshot rang out.

"Ralphie!" the prospector screamed reaching down for his fallen friend, halted as a metallic hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"Kid, there's no time!" Delton shouted in his ear, only to eat an elbow for his troubles.

"I'm not leaving him behind!" Cody said trying to draw Annie only to feel another pair of hands grabbing at him from behind.

"Cody, we have to get out of here!" Andy called while trying to wrestle him away, yet the young marksman's willpower overtook him and he shoved the amber-haired man off of him.

Ralphie was still alive and reached out weakly to his best friend, mouthing a plea not to be left behind. He would do whatever he could to save the wounded man even if it meant putting his own life on the line.

"C'mon, it's no use! We have to go!" Andy shouted over the buzzing of the dirt bike engines as Cody thrashed against their grip, managing to strike the medic with another backhand, yet he maintained his hold and continued tugging away at his younger companion, "C'mon!"

The enraged prospector was just about to break free from their grasp when he looked up to see one of the mounted raiders raising a 9mm handgun with some strange engraving on the side and pointing it at his face.

The trigger was depressed and a gunshot rang out, the last thing Cody Shivers would ever see before everything went black.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

From a nearby hilltop Gearhead watched impassively as several explosions rocked the drive-in where he and the Road Ragers had set up camp.

He was feeling pissed off.

It wasn't because his men were being slaughtered, if they were so easily killed off by a group of 'civilians' it was because they were weak and he had no place for weakness among his own. He was pissed because he wasn't down there busting skulls like he loved to do.

With the group of people he had at his side, he knew the attackers wouldn't have stood a chance and it would have been a matter of seconds before they were being strung up and used for target practice like they had done with the others unfortunate enough to stumble across their camp.

With all the hell he and his crew had wreaked upon Rodeo Plaza he knew there were survivors who would be seeking revenge. It wasn't the first time that had happened.

But 'they' had told him to stay back.

He hated himself for allowing someone else to dictate his actions, but deep down even he knew when he would be over his head. He remembered what happened to the 8 Ballers when they gotten bold.

"Man, this is fucking pissing me off!" a high-pitched voice groaned next to him, "We should be out there cutting up those fucks!" the fidgety Psycho addict Itchy continued, itching himself the entire time like his nickname implied.

"Quiet you!" Bumper boomed walking up behind the skinny man and slapping him hard upside the head, sending him skittering away. The massive man took a spot next to his leader and crossed his arms, "You sure we should be listening to them? We go down there and those bothersome piss ants will be dead for sure."

"They told us to hold back," Gearhead said turning to face his longtime friend, "Why? I honestly have no fucking idea."

"You talk about these people like they have eyes everywhere," Orchid spoke walking up behind her leader and beginning to playfully stroke his arm, "C'mon baby, let's go down there and blow those cocksuckers to kingdom come! What they don't know won't hurt 'em!" she cackled madly.

Indeed Gearhead had to wonder if the lady's sarcastic comment had any truth to it, especially with how the 8 Ballers were dealt with. It was a possibility that left him looking over his shoulder.

Either way he was being promised a lot of caps and fancy merchandise for the cargo they had recovered and didn't want to risk blowing an opportunity this rare.

For now the Road Ragers' leader would roll with the punches and he turned to where his most trusted associates were gathered.

In addition to Bumper, Orchid and Itchy there was also Hammerhead and Brushy along with Stitch, the closest thing the gang had to a medic, who was reclining against the ambulance he had claimed as his own.

Seated on a motorcycle with two attached machine guns was a tall dark-skinned man with two sawed-off shotguns strapped to his harness. He was called Buster and he was Bumper's 'blood brother.' Seated behind him was a pink-haired woman called Lash, Blaster's main squeeze. Truth be told, she was pretty much the whole gang's 'squeeze' with the kind of 'special services' she provided in between raids.

Standing near Gearhead's Humvee was another big man with short black hair cropped close to his head and two lines of .308 rounds crisscrossing his barrel chest, all for the menacing automatic rifle held in his hands, punctuated by the huge bayonet attached to the end, his 'Thunder Gun' as he called it. He was Zeus, another longtime associate of Gearhead's who had saved his life on more than one occasion. Angry, violent and antisocial, the Road Rager leader was the only person he showed any modicum of respect for in this harsh, crazy world.

A loud fit of barking called out and he looked to see a diminutive, malformed fellow with long grubby blond hair and a matching beard lunging towards a rabbit that had crossed his path, only to be restrained by the chain attached to his collar. He was Fido, an insane fellow locked in a constant state of feral aggression, literally believing himself to be a dog, communicating only through barks and howls. Nevertheless, his senses seemed to be further developed than a typical human being and he served as the gang's official watchdog.

His 'handler' was a burly man of Hispanic descent with a blood red paw print tattooed on his left shoulder, the distinguishing mark carried by all members of his former tribe. He was called Shiv, known for keeping numerous handmade blades hidden on his personal being at all times.

The final raider present was another wiry fellow who sat with a gas tank strapped to his back and a flamer at his side. His red hair was a frizzled mess and always smelled like smoke, as did everything else on him. He looked up away from the lighter held in his hands and it was then he saw his face, more likely what was left of it, the entire left side heavily scarred by burns. His green eyes carried a sadistic gleam, his left eye mostly obscured by a piece of melted flesh, as was the corresponding corner of his mouth, giving off his typical crazy grin.

Nobody knew his name so they simply called him Scorch. As his nickname and weapon of choice implied, he _loved_ to burn things.

A loud rumble sounded, coming from a delivery truck that had once belonged to the Fancy Lads Snack Cakes company.

"Itchy, go see what the hell they want in there," Gearhead ordered.

"But why me, Boss?" the jumpy raider asked, still scratching himself the entire time.

"Since when is it your job to ask questions?" Gearhead roared in the man's face, "Now get your fucking ass over there and see what the fuck they want!"

Itchy nearly tripped over a crock pot as he stumbled his way over to the delivery truck and pulled out his .32 revolver as he undid the padlock and carefully opened the door.

"Whatta ya' want in there?" he blurted out pointing the gun's barrel at the closest inhabitant, a blonde-haired woman in a soiled tanktop.

"Please, this little girl needs to go to the bathroom," she spoke, motioning towards the back, where a little girl in a pink dress clung tightly to the auburn-haired woman in front of her. Behind them was a barely conscious redheaded woman in a soiled duster, a strip from the other lady's flower-patterned dress crudely fashioned into a bandage wrapped around her thigh.

They were the three ladies taken from Rodeo Plaza and in addition to them, there were three other women gathered from recent raids. Their contact had requested only women for their latest 'order' and they needed to get their hands on whatever they could.

"Please," the little girl whimpered before retreating behind her protector.

"What the fuck do we look like here? A charity service?" Itchy shouted before slamming the doors shut on them.

Lucy Graham sighed quietly as she looked down to Abby, the child maintaining her death grip on her left arm. There was a fearful look in her blue eyes as fresh tears crept out of her ducts.

"It was worth a try," she gently whispered to the little girl pulling her into another tight hug.

She looked down to Stanzi behind them, the injured prospector drifting in and out of consciousness after having that railway spike driven through her thigh. Despite having no medical equipment on her she was determined to do what she could for the woman who had gone down trying to protect her community and fashioned a crude bandaged she hoped would stop the bleeding. She wasn't able to tell for sure given the relative darkness they were left in, also having to do what she could to be there for the frightened little girl.

Aside from them there were the three other ladies, the blonde-haired woman who had spoken to the fidgety raider, Marin she had learned her name was.

The other two women were an African-American woman stripped down to her under garments and a woman of Latin descent who wore some strange getup consisting of a loin cloth, bandoleer, a hollowed out shell for a spaulder and some necklace of what appeared to be yao guai teeth, speaking in the pidgin dialect of a local tribe.

A low groan caught her attention and she looked down to see Stanzi stirring back into consciousness. Once again she would have to do what she could to treat the suffering woman.

Back outside Gearhead returned his attention to the battle in the drive-in and watched as a few of his mounted brothers exited on their dirt bikes chasing after any stragglers. He felt confident they would kill whomever was sent after them.

"Hey Boss, the messenger is coming!" Stitch called out.

He tensed at the medic's words and with a deep breath turned to meet the representative.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**Author's Note: **And so ends the next installment of "Crossing Destinies!"

On for some random notes, the Road Ragers are mostly inspired by the Dreadnoks from G.I. JOE with a few elements of the Twisted Metal series thrown into the mix. They would probably act as my take on a cross between the Powder Gangers from New Vegas and the Slavers from FO3.

The ambulance Stitch drives around in would for sure be inspired by Metal Wagon from the Twisted Metal reboot, which was inspired by a 1960's Miller Meteor ambulance (think what the Ghostbusters drove around in) to help fit in with the Fallout universe's retro-futuristic concept.

Fido the dog-like raider is inspired by the Age of Apocalypse (Earth-295) equivalent of Wild Child from Marvel Comics. I thought it would be cool to have a raider on hand who is so messed up in the head he's not even aware that he's human and not an animal.

Well I think that's all I have to say right now so until next time read and review as always! This is Metal Harbinger saying SPREAD THE SICKNESS, ONE MIND AT A TIME! \m/


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